Redemption
by Krabbit
Summary: One night Takasugi comes across his teacher Shoyou, who should be dead but is alive. Or, at least, someone who looks just like him. By bringing the look-alike on board of the Kiheitai, Takasugi seems to attract the attention of another enemy and learns that there was more to his teacher and to this stranger than he thought. (My 1st fan-fic, so may be slow to get to good parts)
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everyone~ This is my first ever fan-fic, so you can probably tell that there'll be ups and downs about it. Please be gentle when you criticize, and please leave reviews.**

 **Disclaimers: All characters belong to their respective author and not to me...**

* * *

A silver waft of smoke arose from an old-fashioned pipe and drifted away into the dark cold evening air. The dark haired man sighed, releasing another puff of smoke from his parted lips. Neither his attire of purple-gold color and dark black haori, nor his katana at his side was what drew people's glances. It was the bandage over his left eye and the dark look of mixed hunger, insanity and hatred in his right.

It had truly been a while since he'd been on such a leisurely walk alone, and on Earth no less. He'd never step a foot back in the place he'd vowed to destroy himself unless it was for business, but…

Closing his right eye, he could see plainly each and every memory he retained in his left of the past. His sensei's kind and stern, unchanging smile; his peers' laughing, smiling faces; his sensei's fist as he bonked him into the ground for punishing his misbehavors; the dark setting sunset and the cold moonlight reflecting on the back of his comrade's sword…

Silently inhaling his pipe and letting out another breath, he stopped on the path and stared up at the cold crescent moon. So many things changed over the ten years since his sensei's death. But he had not. Endeavoring to avenge him, he had sought and decided to destroy everything in the corrupted world. That was the only reason for his living on.

He slowly extinguished his pipe and pocketed it inside his kimono sleeve and walked on.

There weren't very many people walking around during the evening, but there were a few stray samurai and other men who were coming back from the main heart of the city, drunk and tipsy. None would approach him, though, nor prove to be any sort of trouble. If anything, he would have liked for them to give him a reason to cut them down. Useless things should just be rid of from the world, after all.

Just as he began to walk forward, out of the corner of his closed left eye, he could see his sensei smiling at him.

And when he opened his right, there he was, right in front of him.

Dressed in a pale gray blue kimono with a matching haori and a gray scarf that covered his neck, clutching a green book and walking up to him with that smile. Smiling to himself, he blinked, knowing that the sensei in front of him would disappear. But he didn't, and continued to walk forward until they were close enough to touch shoulders.

He didn't need anyone to tell him that the sensei in front of him was not an illusion. The warmth and presence of a human being… that—he could never mistake for a memory.

Unconsciously, the words slipped from his lips, "Sensei…" and his teacher stopped next to him. Turning his head to look up at the man who had called for him, he smiled.

That was right before Takasugi Shinsuke hit his neck with the back of his katana, hard enough to make him faint.

* * *

"Oi, you hentai lolicon senpai."

"I'm not a hentai, nor a lolicon, Matako-san. I'm a feminist." The samurai answered with his usual blank face and a scolding glare at the young female.

"Who's the guy Shinsuke-sama brought back?" cocking her guns and reloading the bullets, Matako flipped the twin revolvers in her hands and made a sour face. "I thought that he was going alone on his walk, and since he'd specifically told us to stay back-,"

"Who knows what's going on in his head-gozaru. At the very least, we can tell that Takasugi-dono has his reasons. He wouldn't bring a random stranger on board unless he thought that he was useful-de-gozaru." Behind the two, the _Tsunpo_ of the crew commented, strumming his shamisen softly in rhythm to the music he was listening to.

"That's true…" the blondie pursed her lips and pocketed her guns. If it was anything, it was her feminine instincts alerting her when she saw the unconscious man in Takasugi's arms. Something… was _off_ about him.

* * *

He didn't know what had driven him to do such a thing. But there was no way that he could ever mistake sensei's face. Ever. The person on the futon was the striking image of his sensei, in every way. That long gray light brown hair hanging below the shoulder blades; calm and gentle composition of each face feature – most especially the curve of those lips which gently turn up into a smile, and those unwavering soft gray eyes.

But if the person he knew was already dead, then who was this person, who had the same face, nuance and aura of his past sensei?

That digging, uneasy curiosity was burning into him. This person wasn't sensei, but neither was this person nothing at all to have his face. Something spelled out that this wasn't a mere coincidence.

The only reason that he'd brought this person along onto his ship was because he needed to ascertain whether this person was a fake or not. Afterwards, he would just as easily get rid of—

The rustling movement drew him out of his thoughts. Puffing out another sliver of smoke, Takasugi watched the person silently from his place near the window.

The sensei look-alike slowly got up, blinking, then turned to look around the room. While it was on a ship and mechanized, Takasugi had had it shaped to his own Japanese tastes, so the floor was adorned with tatami mats; the walls had screens placed in front of them, and there was very little of what one would call furniture in the room at all.

"You're awake." Takasugi said, continuing to observe the stranger as he got out of the futon and patted his kimono, seeming to search for something before glancing up at him.

Smiling, he motioned the character for write in the air. His eye narrowing just the slightest bit, Takasugi bit on his pipe and inhaled, frowning. "What would you need that for-,"

The sensei look-alike deftly unraveled his scarf to reveal the ragged, vicious scars surrounding his neck. As if… someone had tried to lop of his head very sloppily but failed. That explained why he hadn't spoken up even once. He literally couldn't.

"Your things are on the shelf over there."

Smiling, he retrieved his things and began to quickly write out something in the booklet and held it out to Takasugi.

 _You shouldn't kidnap someone like this with no warning, my little samurai._ He barely finished reading the sentence when he looked up and saw a familiar fist slam down on his head.

His face rammed into the ground with a shocking realization of déjà vu – no one other than his sensei would do such a thing and call him by that nickname.

The tremor of the hit made the ship's floor tremble just a bit, and alarmed voices called out for him outside of his door.

"Shinsuke-sama, Shinsuke-sama! Are you alright?"

"Takasugi-sama, are you safe?! What's going on?!" the door promptly opened, and a large group of the Kiheitai came swarming in, looking for the cause of the ruckus.

What they saw was their leader sprawled on the ground with a huge dent where his head had been, and the young man standing right in front of him, holding onto a notebook and smiling.

"You bastard, you did in Shinsuke-sama-!" Matako was the first one to draw her guns and point them at the calmly standing man while the rest of them surrounded the stranger and tried to help Takasugi. But before she could pull the triggers, a familiar small dagger lodged right into the wall, throwing off the direction of her weapons. Two stray bullets ended up in the ceiling and in a crew's shoulder, soliciting a loud cry.

"—n't touch."

"Sh-Shinsuke-sama?" The rest of the crew stepped back hesitantly at the order of their leader, who was crouching up and wiping the blood off his forehead with a dark look. He had been the one to throw the dagger as well.

"Don't you dare touch this person."

"Shinsuke?" The shamisen musician/assassin/vice-captain stepped up with a rather puzzled voice. This kind of behavior was rather unusual for their leader to take. He had never bothered with anything in this world, much less worry this much about another person unless he or she was useful to him.

"Alright, then everyone. As long as Takasugi-dono says it's alright, then he's alright. Go back to your stations." The lolicon feminist clapped his hands and shooed everyone else out. Begrudgingly so, the members sheathed their katanas and left quietly, leaving the five of the remaining people in the room.

Matako pocketed her guns and ran to Takasugi, trying to help him up. "Shinsuke-sama, are you-," she was cut off by a sudden chain of mad chuckles coming from her leader.

The young man in question who had been observing them quietly crouched down and gently patted Takasugi's head, then started brushing off the rubble. He wrote something down and held it up. _Are you alright?_

"You attacked Shinsuke-sama and yet you say such a thing, you bastard—," Matako retorted hotly, when Takeshi Henpeita stopped her from going near him.

 _Even if I did scold him, it's only natural that I would concern myself for his well being, no? That's what it means to care for someone._

"Shinsuke, who is this-gozaru? Another Yato? To have busted your head through the ground-,"

"That's right. You haven't introduced yourself…" Takasugi slowly got up, brushing off the dust from his kimono. Before any of them could respond, he had his sword drawn and held against the other's scarred throat. "Who might you be, to have _his_ face and approach me like this? What are you?"

Despite having a blade at his throat, the person calmly picked up his brush and wrote, _My name is Yoshida Shuyo. Your teacher, Yoshida Shouyou was my elder twin brother._

* * *

 **So... please leave reviews and like it if you did!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello, everyone, as usual. For those of you who have read my work, thank you for your viewing a work that might be lacking, somewhat.**

 **And thank you to Xliaf27 for commenting! It was very encouraging. Hontoni, arigatou gozaimasu!**

 **Please enjoy the next longer chapter (though it doesn't have much...)! Please leave reviews or comments!**

 **Thank you^^**

 **Disclaimers: All respective characters belong to Hideaki Sorachi sensei!**

* * *

"… No, you probably shouldn't." the first samurai spoke up.

"Yeah… if anyone steps inside there, Takasugi-sama would kill you."

"Did you feel that tension outside of the room? Something's going on for Matako-san and Bansai-sama to be there like that."

"But… what would happen to this? Takechi-dono ordered me to bring it up to Takasugi-sama and the guest…" the young man stared down at the tray of tea and snacks and sighed.

"Well… if it's tea, then that's fine, right?" the other three pushed the youngest recruit into the direction of Takasugi's room. Stumbling, he came into eye contact with Matako, who glared down at him with bloodshot eyes.

"Whatcha want, bastard?" she growled, cocking a gun at his forehead. Bansai ignored the two, too busy listening to the most recent music from his headphones and lounging against the wall. He had no interest in his surroundings at the moment.

"The… Takechi… dono… ordered that some tea to… to… be brought to Takasugi-sama…" the young man stammered, holding up the tray. He'd already been warned by the others that Matako was one of the four people he should never cross in the entire Kiheitai, so it was no surprise that he was nervous.

"Alright. I have it, so scram." Her sharp glare died down immediately at the mentioning of Takasugi and she swiped the tray from him. Turning around, she knocked on the door with a sweet tone. "Shinsuke-sama, I have some refreshments for you, so may I enter?"

"Matako, you shouldn't-," Bansai startled and raised a hand to stop her, but no sooner did the door open that a dagger come flying in her direction and lodge itself into the wall behind her. If Bansai hadn't been there to push Matako's head out of the way, then she would have a dagger in her face by now.

The door silently closed again and the blue-green haired assassin sighed at the dazed girl, "That's why I told you to stop, honestly-gozaru…"

* * *

Y _ou're very skilled with your hands, aren't you? Was that a skill you developed during the Joi War?_

Takasugi glanced in Shuyo's direction for a moment before exhaling deeply. "Ah."

So he hadn't been completely off in that this person did have a connection to his sensei. But a twin sibling… his sensei had never mentioned anyone, or anything of the sort. But then again, besides knowing what kind of a person he was and what he did, Takasugi himself didn't know much about Shoyou-sensei either.

 _I heard from Shoyou Onii-sama about you. He spoke of a very stubborn, adorable little samurai who came everyday to his school to challenge the dojo and eventually ended up joining as a student._

"So that's why you're so unsurprised about my mentioning of Shoyou-sensei… though, I'm sure that sensei never mentioned that he had a younger twin sibling in all of his years with us."

 _It's only a given that he didn't talk about me. There was no need to, after all._ _He didn't ask you about your background, either, did he? He already knew everything about you that was important, and only taught you what was needed. As for me… after I lost my ability to speak, I became somewhat of a wanderer, teaching people what I knew. Just like Onii-sama did in his school, teaching the young children to read, write, and live freely, I also taught people._

"You…" Just then, a large grumble echoed in the room.

Shuyo looked up at Takasugi, smiling sheepishly. That stupid smile was just like sensei's. _Do you, perhaps have something for me to eat here?_

Wordlessly, Takasugi got up from his seat, opened the door, and taking the tray of tea and snacks from an open-mouthed, shock-stilled Matako, came back, holding it out to Shuyo.

 _Thank you._

"How do I know you aren't lying about your identity?" Takasugi glared down at Shuyo, who smiled while picking up the cup of tea. "I've killed people for less."

 _You are not a person who would merely kill without reason. If the reason comes to be that I really am lying, then do with me what you must._ Shuyo smiled and added, _But would you let me teach one more person if you do decide to end up killing me?_

Saying such a thing while smiling kindly… it was just like Shoyou-sensei, too. Not bothering to smother his laughter, Takasugi clutched his stomach while chuckling like mad. This was turning out to be interesting. "Fine, then. I suppose I should let you stay for a while to keep an eye on you."

As he turned to leave, he continued, "But if I do find out that you're lying, I'll be the one to kill you-,"

He was promptly interrupted when a mochi was stuffed in his mouth; the sweetness of anko spreading on his tongue, he looked down at Shuyo, his eyebrows crooked at a 90 degree of disbelief and irritation.

Shuyo held up the note, smiling and totally unfazed at the young man's death glare, _These sweets and tea are for two, Takasugi._

Reluctantly chewing, Takasugi wiped the flour from his chin and said, "I'm not a sweets and tea person," he turned away and opened the door, but added, "But if it's yakult, then I won't mind."

* * *

Smiling wryly at the young man who left, Shuyo touched the livid scars and sipped the slowly cooling tea.

 _Onii-sama, you have a great disciple, don't you? This tea is perfectly warm, and these confectionaries are also delicious. What a kind bunch they are, taking care of their leader and the guest so hospitably…_

Shuyo finally noticed the dark vast space of stars outside the window and smiled, though rather confusedly. _Hm… first of all… where am I, anyway? This isn't the ocean, is it?_

Just like the elder Yoshida, this one was just as bad of an airheaded optimist.

* * *

It had been about a week since the arrival of the new guest on board and it was around 2 in the afternoon and in outer space, and inside the Kiheitai space ship, that several men were huddled around the cracked open door to their leader's room, whispering furiously amongst each other. Belonging to that same group was Matako and Takechi, who ended up being the ones closest to observe the intruder.

"That guy's been doing nothing but that for hours during the time he was here? Just how long is he gonna write stuff down? Even the hentai lolicon senpai doesn't write stuff down for that long when he's planning stuff." The blonde-haired gun-wielder muttered.

"I am not a hentai, nor a lolicon, Matako-san. I am a feminist, but you're never going to bother to remember that, are you."

"That guy's not a woman, so why are you so hung up on this, eh?" she retorted back.

"That was because of Takasugi-dono's order to never keep our eyes off of him. As the strategist and senpai of you younglings, staying here is a given, is it not?"

"What kind of stupid logic is that?!"

"What are you doing-gozaru?" a familiar voice interrupted behind them. The bunch of the men scattered to their places, while Matako and Takechi just stared up at their comrade.

"Keeping up with Shinsuke-sama's orders, Bansai-senpai."

"Matako, you have work to do, don't you? I don't recall Shinsuke ever telling you to keep an eye on that person-gozaru." With that, Bansai just went straight in to talk to the guest, who looked up at him with a smile.

He stood there, seemingly engaged in a conversation for a while, but the rest standing outside were too busy being loud to hear. After about 10 minutes passed, the guest put his brush down and joined Bansai, giving each of the men outside a smile as he followed him out into the hall.

He stopped for a moment, writing down something and showed it to the young Kiheitai underling with a smile.

 _The snacks and tea from that time were very delicious, thank you_.

Matako frowned at the retreating back of the guest, muttering, "What's up with that guy…"

"Oi, Harasuma, you're going red! Are you alright?" another man shook the young underling, who was covering up his reddening face with the sleeve of his kimono.

"I-I'm fine. It's just that… that person… he reminded me of…"

* * *

"So. What is the meaning of this, Bansai?"

"Oh, if it isn't Shinsuke-gozaru. We were just getting round to call you as well, gozaru." The assassin/musician/deaf man/subordinate looked up at Takasugi, his hands full of rice.

What was going on in the kitchen of the ship was that about a dozen of the men, including Bansai and Shuyo, had their hands full of what seemed to be unfinished onigiri. There were several trays of onigiri on the table, and the delicious smell of cooking rice was wafting in the air, along with that of sesame oil and various seasonings.

Takasugi met eyes with Shuyo, who smiled at him, holding out a finished onigiri. _Care for one, Takasugi?_

"Anyhow, you're rather skilled with cooking, considering that you're a man, aren't you, Yoshida-dono?" someone commented, and Shuyo smiled. He still held out the onigiri to Takasugi, who merely stared down at it expressionlessly.

 _I've learned a thing or two, since my brother was always the one eating them. I had to learn as quickly as I could so he wouldn't eat them all_.

Some of the men laughed, while a quick memory flashed in Takasugi's mind.

* * *

 _"_ _You three-," Takasugi, Katsura and Gintoki, the three mischiefs of Shoka Sonjuku school, ended up with three enormous bumps on their heads for making another mess of the dojo. It had started with Takasugi's quarrel with Gintoki as to who was better at sparring, then Katsura's meaningless interference to try to alleviate the situation. In the end, three other students were hurt in prying them apart, and Shoyou-sensei had ended up stepping in… and punishing them by clearing up the tools and cleaning the dojo._

 _By the time they were done, the three were dirty, sweaty and tired, and collapsed on the floor with loud sighs._

 _"_ _Well done, you three. The place looks cleaner than ever. Perhaps I should assign you three to the cleaning jobs instead of the elder kids?" Shoyou-sensei approached them with a smile on his face, and a plate of rather funny looking lumps of rice._

 _Rolling on his chest, Gintoki was the first one to ask, "Oi, Shoyou… what's that?"_

 _Kneeling before his students, Shoyou had held out the plate and said brightly, "They're onigiri. I thought that you'd be tired, so I made them myself. I can't have you two-," his eyes touched on Takasugi and Katsura, "—collapsing on the way from hunger now, can I?"_

 _"_ _Ugh… sensei… you've already done that." Takasugi muttered, rolling onto his chest like Gintoki and starting up at his teacher like a pouting child, and Shoyou laughed._

 _"_ _Well now, that would make me a horrible sensei. But won't you try some, Shinsuke? Gintoki is-"_

 _"_ _Blegh! What are these?!" Katsura, who had taken the first bite, immediately stood as the onigiri crumbled in his hands and revealed limp, green-gray herbs in its midst._

 _"_ _Oya, you didn't like the flavoring in them, Kotarou?" Shoyou asked with a puzzled expression. "They're rejuvenating herbs. Perfect for your worn out bodies, you know."_

 _Gintoki and Takasugi, who had each taken a bite of the poorly made onigiri also frowned and spat out the rice. "Shoyou, this is way too bitter. There isn't any seaweed or salt in this either. Just how did you make this?"_

 _"_ _Well, I've always been one to eat them rather than make them, so…" their teacher made a sheepish expression and smiled at Katsura, "Why don't you handle the making today, Kotarou and Shinsuke? The last time you made them, those onigiri were also delicious…"_

* * *

At that moment, if anyone had looked at Takasugi's face for more than just a split second, they would have noticed that he carried a faint, melancholy smile, as if remembering a nostalgic, but painful memory.

Shuyo still held up the onigiri with a smile, and the rest of the men were busy continuing to build up the mountain of food. Bansai, on the other hand, was now busying himself with observing the new member on board. Just like Matako, he too had noticed that there was something about this person that seemed rather… off.

As Takasugi slowly reached to accept the onigiri, Shuyo quickly snatched it and chomped down on it, leaving him speechless and feeling rather put off at the joke.

Shuyo continued to eat while Bansai started laughing under his palm. Anyone who saw the scene happen didn't dare say anything, lest they anger their leader. Takasugi lowered his arm and reached into his kimono sleeve to take out his kiseru, though by now anyone could see the small vein popping in his neck.

"If you were just going to eat it, then why bother with me, hm?" he muttered darkly, and Shuyo opened his mouth in a silent laugh before licking his fingers clean of the remaining rice. Crouching down, he scooped up a handful of rice, quickly sprinkled some seasoning and topped it with seaweed, then stood and raised it to Takasugi's face.

 _That's because you hesitated. This is a peace offering, so don't smoke in the kitchen, Takasugi._ After he was done reading the note, the dark haired leader put down his pipe and before Shuyo could try to take it back, snatched the onigiri and took a begrudging bite.

The other members who had been too busy with themselves didn't notice, but Bansai's mouth had opened just a bit at this interaction. Takasugi was not one to act in such an immature way, so this was rather surprising… and rather… cute? Behind his shades, Bansai stared at the terrifying creature who had in a matter of hours, stirred such a change in his leader.

"This needs more salt." Was the only reply Takasugi gave before leaving the room, the half-eaten onigiri still in his hand.

* * *

 **This chapter didn't have much excitement... but it's going to get much interesting in the next few.**

 **Please review and feel free to comment!**

 **And... perhaps, leave suggestions as to what kind of flashbacks I should add from Takasugi's childhood? Writing these flashbacks are really fun, as I found out...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Good day/night to you, readers, KRabbit here! I just couldn't stop myself from writing; it got so fun^^, so here we are!**

 **This chapter's longer than the last one, too... please enjoy and review~!**

 **As usual, Xliaf27, thank you for commenting. You're going to find out part of the character's identity in this chapter~! But there's a lot more to her, so be tuned for the later chapters!**

 **Disclaimers: All respective names and characters belong to their authors, and not to me...**

* * *

"Takasugi-sama, the Harasume's admiral is requesting your permission to land."

The said leader did not reply, but his subordinate nodded to indicate his consent. When the messenger scurried off, Bansai continued strumming his shamisen and began to speak.

"So. Who is that person to you, Shinsuke? A very influential person, no doubt-gozaru…"

Takasugi didn't reply – just continued to smoke through his kiseru and looked outside the window, a hand in his kimono sleeve.

"A storm is rising, Bansai. Can you hear the winds now?"

Banzai glanced at him through his shades and said, "They're not winds to you though, are they, Shinsuke-gozaru. So. Who is _she_?"

* * *

"Iya, it's been a while, Shinsuke!" Kamui, the captain of the 7th squad of the Harusame cheerfully waved at his prey/ally, and smacked one of the subordinates out of the way as he walked up to Takasugi. As usual, he had only his right hand Abuto, an older Yato trailing behind him with a sour expression on his face.

Takasugi merely smirked in response and said, "What brings you all the way out here, and on my ship, no less?"

"Well, I had a bit of information that I thought would interest you. Wanna hear it?"

That was rather rare. "Be my guest."

"Ah, but first, can I get a bite to eat? I came all the way out here to tell you this anyhow, so a thanks is in order, right?"

"You were never going to speak unless you had something to eat, huh, you insane alien pirate." He muttered, but turned and gestured for Kamui to follow him.

"Abuto, you can stay here and keep watch, okay?"

"Tch, we don't have time for this, honestly…" was the older Yato's answer.

* * *

The table was overflowing with dozens of different dishes, yet the young Yato was finishing off every plate with celerity and ease, talking in between each munch and chew. The main hall of the ship was the only room that had enough space to fit all the food, and there were no guards or other subordinates in sight.

"Hohh, considering that this isn't Earth, the food is pretty good, no?" Kamui commented, smiling as he bit into several onigiri at once. Onigiri that Shuyo had made with the crew, no less.

He'd been silent for the first fifteen minutes, watching Kamui eat, but he finally spoke up, "You haven't said anything of importance yet, Yato-pirate."

"Alright, alright," the vermillion haired said, licking the rice from his chin. "It's not going to be surprising, but stray Harusame and the Tendoshou, allied with the Bakufu's dogs are after you."

"… That's not new."

"No, no, it's a little different from before. These guys are different from your regular standard of assassins or killers, Shinsuke. A group of rogue killers who have no loyalty to either humans nor Amanto, but have a schedule of their own…a group of strays, called Noragami."

"Stray Gods, hm? This is the first I've heard of them."

"Well, I only got this information now, too. They'd been laid low for a long time, but apparently, they were the group of assassins that existed under the Tendoshu centuries ago. Something happened when the elders of the Tendoshu back then were replaced, and they'd disappeared for a couple of decades…"

Just when Kamui had trailed off, Takasugi cocked his head to the side as a familiar purple umbrella came slicing through the air and blew up a part of the wall right behind him, narrowly missing him. Takasugi nonchalantly bit on his kiseru and inhaled, not in the least bit fazed.

The vermillion haired Yato laughed merrily before jumping on the table and propelling himself into the air. "I see you're as sharp as ever, Shinsuke. You're going to need all those senses of yours to stay alive, you know. They're the kind that I would love to fight, but I have other things to take care of, so I can't help out at all."

He yanked out his umbrella from the cracked wall and started to walk out, waving. "You're not allowed to die until I kill you, Shinsuke. Well then, thanks for the food."

Long after Kamui had left behind only the dirty dishes and that warning, Takasugi smiled, exhaling a long wisp of smoke. "That doesn't change my original objective. Their arrival only adds to the number I will rid of, after all..."

But he did note the fact that if Kamui had come all the way out here just to warn him about them, the so-called Noragami were also of a peoples he had to look out for. Whether they too would end up aiding him or becoming a hindrance to him was a matter of time.

"And speaking of pieces and numbers... Bansai. Where did you move Shuyo?"

Bansai, who had just come inside the main hall answered, "Well… Matako didn't take the change very well, and it didn't seem as if she knew about Shuyo-dono yet, and-,"

"Don't make me repeat myself, Bansai."

"In the baths-gozaru."

* * *

 _These baths are actually pretty spacious for one person's use, huh._ The younger of the Yoshida twins thought, splashing water. While they were all making onigiri, Matako had come in and accidentally knocked over the vinegar and seasame oil all over Shuyo, earning a rather half-hearted apology and everyone else's shocked faces. Shuyo had brushed them off, writing that it was no big deal, and had been led by the young samurai Harasuma from before to the baths.

There had been no one in the baths, so Shuyo had the bath all to—

"Oi, Yoshida-dono, we heard about the accident, are you all clean now?"

"Shall we help with scrubbing your back?" At the chorus of men's voices approaching the baths, Shuyo started panicking just a bit. If worst got to worst, they would only see, but besides that…

Sinking up to the shoulders in water, Shuyo's eyes closed calmly as the voices came closer.

The doors opened, but for a good few minutes, no one managed to step inside. Wondering what was going on, Shuyo rose slightly from the warm bath and looked up… coming eye to eye with Takasugi.

"What are you doing here, Shuyo?" he asked her, his tone calm. It sounded as if he was unaffected by whatever he saw underneath the water.

Behind Takasugi's ankles, Shuyo could see the other men who had been pulled back with both expressions of confusion, fear and exasperation. Bansai and Matako were also there, holding them back and standing at the door, watching the two. While Bansai was his usual self, listening to his headphones and had his back to the baths, Matako was glaring straight at Shuyo while snapping at the men to step back.

Shuyo smiled up at him, sighing in relief and mouthed, _Thank goodness it was you._

Pulling his black haori from his shoulders, Takasugi reached for Shuyo.

* * *

"Bansai-senpai, why is Shinsuke-sama so obsessed with that person? I've never seen him before like this." Matako muttered, irritated. She was itching to touch her guns and shoot the hell out of that Shuyo person. "Coming all the way to the bath like this just to stop the guys from going in, too? Seriously-,"

"Matako, don't say anything else. If Shinsuke hears about it, he's bound to get angry. And as for the reason, you'll see-gozaru." The headphoned deaf man answered calmly as everyone else started to turn pale and red all at once.

The blonde-haired gun fighter had also seen. Just as Takasugi pulled Shuyo out of the water and covered a rather shapely looking body with his haori. Long grey, light-brown hair covered the torso, so it wasn't completely visible, but…

There was no mistaking those curves.

"Y-Yoshida… Yoshida-dono's a… _woman_?!"

There was silence in the area of the ship before everyone started shouting in alarm and shock. And it wasn't exactly an understatement. Everyone had thought that Yoshida Shuyo was a man, considering that he—no, she had no kinds of plainly visible curves like Matako and no kind of feminine distinction showing up on her face, either.

"But now that you mention it, everything makes sense now." It was just after Takasugi, Shuyo and Bansai left the area that the men started whispering amongst themselves in the baths like old women gossiping after seeing something scandalous.

"Yeah… her skill with cooking, that kind smile... oi, but does that mean…"

"That… Takasugi-sama knew all about Yoshida-dono beforehand and stopped us… does that mean…"

"That… Yoshida-dono is… Takasugi-sama's… lover?"

"There's no way that could be, you bastarrrrrrds!" a familiar screech interrupted the men's talk, accompanied by several shootings from the women's section of the baths. Since the crew was made up of 99.9% men, and Matako was the only woman on board, Takechi and several other Kiheitai members scrapped together a separate women's bath for her. The female gun-wielder was skeptical of their kindness at first, accusing Takechi of it being a ploy for him to just spy on her when she took a bath (which could've been true), but slowly warmed up to the idea of being properly treated like a woman.

"There's no way that could be true, you bastards, what do you take Shinsuke-sama for?!"

The men cowered under the deadly aura emanating from the separate room. "But… even if Yoshida-dono is a fellow woman, he treats her differently than-,"

A shot rang out in the bath and there was crimson blood staining the floor, followed by chains of groaning. "Say one more thing about that wench and next time I'll blow your tongue out of your mouth."

"Now, now, Matako-san. That's no way for a lady to behave, especially towards a fellow comrade. It's unbecoming of you."

"I don't wanna hear that from a hentai, you hentai-lolicon! Heck, when the hell did you get in here?!" she yelled at the familiar balding topknot that popped up from a corner of her bath, shooting at him, her face red.

"I keep telling you, there's a difference between a hentai-lolicon and a feminist who likes children! Goodness, you should just die already-," he was interrupted as she retorted the same comment back at him. Clearing his throat, the strategist continued, "You don't want Takasugi-dono to be angry, do you, Matako-san? It appears that anyhow, that Yoshida-dono is of a special case, after all."

Matako tsked, submerging under the water and muttering, "Geez, I get it already…" If she stayed underwater for long enough, no one would ever have to see her tears or hear her bawling. What the other men said made no sense at all, and there wasn't actual any evidence to back it up, but it didn't stop her from feeling like crap. As a woman, and as a person who was hopelessly in love with the leader she followed, it wasn't as if she could control herself when it came to things like this.

But, if she saw correctly, Yoshida had a distinct, ravaging and ugly scar on her throat… as if someone had tried to lop her head off in a sloppy fashion but failed. A very large physical flaw. So exactly, what was it about this woman that was so charming to everyone else?

Just then, a large bang and a shuddering explosion shook the entirety of the ship.

Harasuma burst inside the room, shouting, "Everyone, we're unde—," before he was cut down by a black shadow right behind him.

The rest of the men inside only stared in shock as blood soaked the entryway and oozed over the wet floor… then they raised their gazes at the perpetrator, who was singing while twirling two twin katana in his hands.

"Oi, oi, I heard that we could get a decent fight with strong guys, but all I see are cheap weak fries here. What's up with that, hm?"

* * *

Takasugi looked at his bloodied hand with a rather crazed smile. It was slippery, drenched with the crimson life of his enemies who were only corpses cooling on the ground of the ship. In his other hand was his dripping katana, which he shook the blood off of before turning to Shuyo, who was huddled in the corner and clutching onto his haori and looking at him with an unwavering expression.

The two had been on the way to his room, taking the shortest way through the ship. She had been trailing a wet path behind her as she walked just slightly behind him while he was holding onto her left arm and smoked his kiseru flippantly. There were a few of the samurai who gave them looks (mostly at Shuyo, who was both dripping wet, badly covered with a large haori and smiling kindly), but neither of them said anything.

A shaking explosion made the two halt for a while, and they were suddenly surrounded by a band of Amanto and samurai, fully armed with weapons unsheathed. The groups blocked each and every entrance, and had charged without any time to delay.

Without even unsheathing his own katana, Takasugi had gently pushed Shuyo into the corner and grabbed the leading Amanto's weapon, twisted it around and stabbed through him before it had even a second to scream. He slowly turned around to slash the running samurai in the torso, and decapitated another small Amanto who ran at him with a sickle. Blood sprayed everywhere, splattering the wall and floor. Arms, limbs and heads were literally rolling and the stench of metal and flesh permeated through the air.

As a fighting machine, a samurai, a killer… Takasugi made a clean and short work of the enemy. Assessing the fallen enemy around him, he muttered, "This was the weak fry from that group that alien was talking about."

He didn't ask whether Shuyo was alright. He had taken care of every intruder there was in the area, and made sure that none touched her, after all. His katana unsheathed, Takasugi smirked and looked down at Shuyo, "Can you still say that I'm sensei's loving student now and continue to look at me with those eyes of yours? I, who am covered in blood and can only continue to shed blood that flows like a sinking ocean around me – until this dark black beast inside me stops howling and whining… for the lives of those who took the life of Shoyou-sensei, and took away the only remaining good in this world."

Shuyo slowly got up from her space in the corner and stepped barefoot into the puddle of blood until she was right in front of the leader of the Kiheitai. Lifting her right hand while her left clutched the haori closed to cover herself, and wiping the blood off of his face, she gave him a soft smile.

It was just as if Shoyou-sensei was alive and smiling at him.

 _Shoyou Onii-sama would still have smiled at you, no matter what kind of situation it was. And you haven't been expelled from his school, even after he was gone, no? You're still a student at his school. You're still my brother's living student, Takasugi. Besides, I'm not as impervious to seeing blood as you might think._ With that, she pointed right behind him, just as Takasugi felt the enormous bloodlust of another anonymous enemy.

He swiftly switched his stance and swung the katana which clashed loudly with a large dao blade that shone an eerie green.

"Aren't you a rude one, interrupting a conversation like that." Takasugi darkly muttered as he was at a stalemate with the stranger. Glaring, he pushed the enemy back with a swing of his katana, which caught a nick of the enemy's dark hair.

Whoever it was, the enemy twirled nimbly in midair and stuck his dao blade into the wall and sat on it after narrowly dodging Takasugi's attack, and threw several kunai at his head. "But so is keeping a lady like that unattended, you know!"

Startling, Takasugi turned to Shuyo, who—

The enemy whistled in surprise, looking admirably down at the woman who had deflected the kunai with a fallen katana from the ground singlehandedly and so quickly that it looked as if she had only just picked up the katana.

"I had no idea that you kept such a cute pet by your side in the Kiheitai, Takasugi Shinsuke. Wasn't that gun-wielding wench the only bitch on board?" The enemy – obviously a man – twirled the kunai in his hands and leaned against the bloody wall. He was as tall as Takasugi, though leaner and with lighter feet. His face was shielded by a kitsune mask, so it was hidden from sight, but his hair was black and long, kept in a ponytail. He was dressed like a shinobi, but had a beautifully patterned kimono on his shoulders.

"Why don't you introduce yourself first before trying to insult someone?" Takasugi righted his katana at the enemy, taking his fighting stance once more.

"Oto, that's right. I'm the newest leader of the Noragami, Kuso." At his introduction, Takasugi paused momentarily.

"Your name is shit." (* Note from author: Kuso does mean shit – both as a curse word and as another slang for poop. In this case, Takasugi is using it as both a slang, insult and as a curse word*)

"Oi, oi, don't say it like that, you're going to hurt my-," Kuso jumped, using the wall as leverage, straight – "—feelings, you know!" –at Shuyo.

Shuyo's calm face was still as composed as ever, as she held the katana in her right hand, but twisted imperceptibly, as if she was in pain. Kuso and Shuyo undoubtedly crossed weapons, but there was only the sound of metal clashing against metal – it looked as if neither had moved even a step after they exchanged their first blow.

Blood spurted freely from the wound, adding to the red background, and it was clear who had won. Kuso fell on a knee, his left hand clutching his shoulder and the other gripping the hilt of his dao blade, but he was not bleeding anywhere – only his nerves had been paralyzed. Several of the kunai he had in his left had fallen to the ground.

"You—," he started, turning his head to see Shuyo, who had thrown the katana in Takasugi's direction… which was embedded in the wall, just above the shoulder of another darkly cloaked enemy who had been close to striking off Takasugi's head. Two of Kuso's kunai were stuck in her left arm and her side, and red rivers flowed from the wounds.

Takasugi had also felt the fourth presence in their midst appear and had shifted his weapon, but if Shuyo had been a second later to throw the katana in order to hinder the enemy – even if it was only through shock – he would be dead by now.

In the distance, there rang out several gunshots and shouting as a group of the Kiheitai ran in the direction of their leader as reinforcements, led by another unknown stranger running towards them.

"You bastard—wait!" Matako was right behind the guy with the twin katanas, waving her guns and her hair wet and dripping. It was clear that she didn't have the time to dress herself properly, much less dry her hair.

"You're not going to be able to shoot me properly while you're in that state, wet panties~." The guy was clearly making fun of her. But he was nimble on his feet and was managing to slice every bullet she was shooting at him, whilst taking down the sword-limb of each man who was charging at him.

"I'm going to shut that mouth of your for good-! Ah—Shinsuke-sama!" Noticing her boss standing there at a bit of a stand-by with an intruder, she turned red – whether it was embarrassment from learning that he could have been listening or from anger, it was hard to tell.

Ignoring the arrival of the backups, Takasugi pulled his katana out of the nameless, _dead_ Noragami member and flicked the blood off. "Do you still want to go, shi—no, _Kuso_?"

Kuso stood, shrugging his shoulders. "Well, well. I would have liked to play more with you guys, but what we've come to do here is done."

The twin katana wielder jumped over Takasugi and Shuyo, grinning like a Chesire cat and joined his comrade, who was slowly sinking into a gaping hole in the ground. Three other shadows sunk into the ground, taking the corpse of their fallen comrade with them.

Kuso's mocking voice laughed, "We won't go easy on you next time, Takasugi; madam, so beware~."

* * *

 **So, how was it? Feel free to comment, and see you all in the next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**That last chapter was long, so I thought I could balance it out with a shorter one this time... he he.**

 **Please feel free to comment and review!**

 **Thank you.^^**

 **Disclaimers: All characters belong to their respective author and creator (that would not be me, unfortunately, but the great sensei Hideaki Sorachi)**

* * *

"To think that that woman both blocked my death blow while throwing that katana to defend that guy… honestly, there's never been a lady who could do that. And I'd been pretty serious there, too. What do you think, Jorugumo?" Kuso turned his masked face to the other member of Noragami, a famous assassin who held twin katanas. He'd gotten his name for being able to sneak on anyone like a spider and draw his prey out before killing them.

"Well, so you got the interesting woman. I only got a bland blonde bitch who was crazy with her guns. I was excited because I heard that she was a rare gunner, but all she has is a runny mouth." Jorugumo said, sighing.

The fourth member, Matsuiro spoke up, "I got a pretty good one. You know, the shamisen guy with the headphones? Hitokiri Bansai, they call him… it was pretty fun, dancing with him." He flexed his wrist and part of the wall cracked from the impact of the chain he held. "But who was that woman? It didn't exactly seem as if she was a part of the crew. A new apprentice or something?"

"No, that wasn't the case. Her skill with the katana was several times higher than that leader's… even though she had no kind of bloodlust. And her hands… weren't of a killer's at all." Kuso murmured, running his fingers across the kunai in his hand as if reminiscing of the shape and texture of the very topic at hand.

A fifth shadow's red eyes looked up from the darkness. They narrowed just a bit before saying, "So you've found her."

* * *

"Ow—ow! That hurts, you hentai lolicon senpai! Can't you even dress a wound correctly?" Matako yelped, glaring at the older samurai who had been disinfecting the gaping wound in her shoulder and back.

"I keep telling you that I'm not a hentai, nor a lolicon, but you're not going to listen, are you, Matako-san? And besides, Bansai-dono hasn't said anything when I dressed his gash, so I don't think you're in the position to complain, Matako-san. Even Yoshida-dono, who got injured didn't say a word when Takasugi-dono-,"

"That lady can't talk at all, damnit! She was unconscious when they treated her! Who are you comparing me to anyway—ow, that hurts!"

"Say still, or I won't be able to disinfect this, Matako-san. But that was rare; to have an enemy who was on par with your gunning skills. And with mere katanas, no less."

Sighing, Matako muttered, "That damned bastard… he was treating me like a kid… but… he was too quick to be human. No human could ever move like that. He… was like a beast." Her blue eyes narrowed as she recollected the fight.

The moment the enemy barged in the bath, the clean, warm waters were soon swarming with blood and fallen corpses littering the ground. A few samurai who had been able to seize their swords were putting up a decent fight with the miscreant, and Matako was already in battle mode, shooting at the enemy's vital points. A few of her bullets nicked his clothes, but he was too quick for any of them keep up with. After knocking out the rest of the samurai in the baths and ignoring Takechi, who pretty much ran for his life, the intruder had engaged in a fierce combat with Matako. She tried each and every way to corner him with her bullets, but he cleanly sliced through each one and sent them flinging back at her, which cut through the skin of her shoulder, arm, thigh and calves, but, miraculously, they were only graze marks; none had gone through her actual body.

During the entirety of the battle, she was teased, harassed and made fun of with that mocking voice of his. She didn't have to even see his face to see that this guy was rotten.

He was dressed in a plain kimono, but there was… also not a single spot on his body that wasn't covered up at all. Even his face was covered up with a white death mask, and a hood covered his head from sight.

"Lightning fast reflexes, animal-like movements, great strength…" Takechi echoed after Matako's muttering, and raised a finger. "Does that not sound like characteristics of the Yato clan…?"

* * *

The attack from the Noragami was a rather big blow to the Kiheitai. Not only had there been many casualties, a majority of the main crew had been wounded. The ship itself was also in need of repair, broken from several explosions from the outside. Whatever kind of weapon the enemy used, it had been extremely effective. And considering that the ship was a solid piece of armor and could be used as well as a formidable fortress, the recent attack had shown that there was a stronger, more dangerous enemy yet. The only ones who came out totally unscathed from the event were Takasugi and a few of the Kiheitai who had been up only against the small fry.

With the recent event, it would be impossible to make a landing on the Bakufu quite yet; and it didn't seem that the Harusame were going to step in to make another alliance quite yet. They already had their hands full with dealing with the their own Harusame and the Elders who were above them, after all.

He had to deal with this new annoying hindrance first.

The young samurai turned his head to the sleeping person in his futon. He didn't usually sleep at all, so he had lent it to Shuyo.

Shuyo, who had been bleeding from her arms and her shoulders, had first asked whether Takasugi was unharmed before smiling, _That young man didn't fight fair, did he?_ before toppling over. He had caught her in time instinctively, and carried her to the nearest room to dress her wounds along with Bansai, who was also quite a handy person when it came to medical measures. After a check up, it turned out that she didn't faint for nothing. The kunai that Kuso had cut her with were laced with poison that numbed the nerves and made one lose consciousness. It would wear off soon, so no one was particularly worried.

But what disturbed him the most was that she wore Shoyou's face, had the same aura, the same personality and the same kind of skill, and that made him move unconsciously, treating her differently; as if he were treating Shoyou-sensei.

But this person was not him. Even if his mind, his heart and even his insanity was drawn to her because of her similarity to Shoyou-sensei, this person was not his teacher.

No. Her grey-light brown eyelashes were longer; her face more curved and smooth; and the frame of her body was much gentler and feminine, despite her height being approximately the same as Shoyou's. She was just like a feminine version of Shoyou.

And it didn't seem as if she was lying about her identity. The way she used that katana previously perfectly mirrored Shoyou's technique. When he was a child, he had seen Shoyou spar with Gintoki and in various other situations; the way he handled his body, while maintaining that speed, strength and precision was almost inhuman. Shoyou had a very different way of fighting than any kind of 'samurai' he had seen before. But then again, even his own teacher had said that he was a very different samurai than the one he knew of.

The room was dark, and the only lights visible were the stars outside of the window in space. Endless darkness and only flickering lights hanging in the air… Inside of him, there was now, only that dark, empty hole and the incessant howling for blood. That hadn't changed, and it would never change.

* * *

"How does the ship's condition seem?"

"Ah, Bansai-dono. The third engine was damaged badly, but not beyond repair. Still, it would take a couple of weeks to fix it until it's up and good to go. That would delay our flight and movement in this space, though. We would be about three days later than our usual speed."

"That's not a very good thing to hear, is it-gozaru… Shinsuke's not going to be happy about this development. With this, the recent plans are going to be delayed…Ah, and I was looking forward to listening to the new idols' brand music, too when we got back…" He sighed, and turned to go on his way to check with the patients in the medical room.

Shuyo's arrival had brought quite a lot of dramatic events along on the ship, and one of those events included Takasugi's recently strange behavior. Bansai hadn't been with Takasugi for a long time, but he was with him long enough to know when his leader acted… rather oddly. It wasn't the kind of madness that Takasugi usually showed in his insane bloodlust and ambition to destroy the Bakufu government and recreate the world. No – it was the strange factor that he started acting… almost like an ordinary man whenever he was around that Shuyo.

He acted as if he knew her – reverting, to the person he might have been in his past before whatever happened that caused him to be who he was now. He was showing a side that Bansai, nor anyone else in the entire Kiheitai had ever known before. And it was unnerving, as well as just a bit frightening.

To say that such a woman had such a stronghold over the volatile, unpredictable Takasugi was terrifying. This man wasn't a man at the most – he was like an intelligent, dangerous beast.

When Bansai had first seen Shuyo, he had known immediately that she was a woman. While others had thought that she was a man, there was too much about her that indicated that she wasn't so.

But what was even more puzzling was that he couldn't _read_ her. Each and every person had a sort of aura about them – the rhythm, the music – a glimpse of a song of their own that they played. That was how he fought his enemies – by reading their 'song' and being able to distinguish who was who and how they fought. But this woman didn't have any kind of 'song'. That, was both curious and just a bit chilling. Chilling in a way that was different than the Shiroyasha's.

Yesterday, when he had engaged in a fight with a young teenager named Matsuiro, a fighter who used, quite literally, sounds and sonic waves to kick down his opponent and slaughter them with double chain whips with spikes. With blue black hair cut down so that it was close to his scalp, and dressed in a long black blazer with trousers and a white dress-shirt, he looked quite young, despite the dexterous talent he had for killing.

Bansai, who had headphones on, was the one who was the least affected, and thus, lasted longer in the fight than anyone else. It had been quite the scene; the room overrun with Amanto and samurai corpses while two figures dressed in blue and green engaged in an insane battle of metal shamisen strings vs. lightning quick chain whips and a katana vs. blades made of sound.

The immaterial and the material weapons used made short work of the room, demolishing it with every dodging or direct attack, and blood spurted from every cut each made on the other. If one of the Noragami hadn't interfered by calling him off, the two might have been at it for a while – until each other had tired of the counterpart's music or until one came up victorious.

To say in the least, the fight had been interesting, if not a bit deafening.

At least he could hear and enjoy the music that was deafening; a thick silence… was what he couldn't stand.

* * *

 **Hehe, that was fun. Feel free to make any suggestions, comments, criticisms and reviews!**

 **Soredewa, matta aimashyo, minna-san!**


	5. Chapter 5

**KRabbit is back with a new chapter! Hehehe^^**

 **This one was also fun to write - I just love writing flashbacks. Anyone have any recommendation for one I could include?**

 **Reviews, comments, criticisms will be appreciated... And t** **hank you, as usual, for reading, my dear readers (Thank you Xliaf27)!**

 **Disclaimers: All respective characters do not belong to me.**

* * *

 _"_ _Shinsuke. What are you doing over here? Did you get in a fight with Gintoki again?"_

 _Startling at the sound of his teacher's voice, Takasugi quickly wiped his face and had his face kept bowed down to the ground in order to hide the bruises on his face. "It's nothing, Shoyou-sensei."_

 _"_ _Ohra, is that so? Then would you like to join me, Shinsuke? I was just about to get Gintoki from the mountain over there."_

 _"…_ _Mountain?"_

 _"_ _Yes. He always goes up there if he feels sullen, you know. And I always go up to retrieve him. Would you mind coming along with me?" his teacher held out a hand to him as he crouched down to face Takasugi at his eye level._

 _If it was Shoyou, Takasugi would probably have granted any kind of request he asked for; even if it meant that he were to follow him to the depths of Hell. So he nodded and stood, but didn't take Shoyou's hand. It wasn't because he didn't want to, but more because he wanted to show his teacher that he didn't need to depend on him to be able to stand._

 _The older samurai smiled and started walking, slowing his pace to match Takasugi's. It was in the late afternoon and just before evening when the two set out on the long walk to the mountains behind the school, but the autumn air was still warm._

 _The two walked for a while, when Takasugi couldn't stand the silence and blurted out loud, "Aren't you going to say anything, sensei?"_

 _"_ _Oh? Was I supposed to?" Shoyou turned his kind face to look down at his student, whose cheeks were just a bit pink, scratched and bruised lightly and his eyebrows wrinkled to the middle, displaying his agitation._

 _"_ _I… was wrong about… fighting. Aren't you going to scold me, sensei?"_

 _"_ _Do you want to be punished, Shinsuke?" Shoyou raised his right hand and clenched it into a fist, as if he was about to bring it down onto Takasugi's head and knock him literally into the ground, like he always did._

 _Takasugi closed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the impact. It never came. Instead, Shoyou's gentle hand rested on his head and started nuzzling his hair, patting it softly._

 _"_ _There is no need to punish a child who already understands what he's done wrong, Shinsuke. The only reason for scolding someone is when they are straying from a straight path and need to be corrected. Whether the person is a samurai, a noble, or just a stubborn little child who gets into a fight with his friends." He smiled down at his student lovingly, smiling._

 _Ignoring the pain in his face as his mouth curled up in a returning smile, Takasugi kept silent and merely let his teacher continue to pat his head. He muttered, "Gintoki's not a friend."_

 _Shoyou continued to smile at him, this time, though this time, more amusedly at the child's stubbornness. "You're right. He's your rival, isn't he?"_

* * *

The first thing he saw when he opened his eye was the profile of her shadowed back, then the grey haori that covered his usually open kimono in the darkness of the room. The only light that existed was the small one coming from a lantern on the table where she was.

As he didn't usually sleep, Takasugi had developed a bit of a habit of sleeping anywhere he found comfortable – whether it was in a sitting position or a crouching position. This situation was no different; he had dozed off on the window of his room.

Blinking, he brushed his fingers against the cloth of Shuyo's haori, which was just plain cotton, a little worn out from several times of wearing, but clean and soft. Someone had recently rewashed this. He glanced over at her back, and it didn't take long for him to realize what she was doing.

Her grey eyes intent on the paper before her, and her arms and hands moving swiftly and elegantly, as if gliding over water and moving back and forth… Shuyo was painting.

As long as he could remember, Shoyou-sensei was always reading whenever he wasn't watching his students or doing something that didn't preoccupy his attention.

Shrugging off the haori, Takasugi got up, curious and walked to her side and peered over her shoulder.

 _You're awake?_ She wrote on the notebook, but didn't look up as she continued to paint. He hadn't been able to see it from far away, but on closer inspection, it was a splendid piece of work of mountainous terrains and small towns nestled at its feet in black and white. The details for each hut, tree or plant on each peak; each line of a curving mountain or the bold lines for the creeks and subtle etchings for the grass was so profound that the painting was like seeing the place in real life.

"So if Shoyou-sensei's talent was with words and writing, yours is for art, huh." He commented, and she smiled up at him.

 _Would you like to learn, Takasugi?_

He ignored her offer and asked, "Where did you get that wound?"

Her calm and kind expression didn't change as she picked up the brush again and wrote, _It was from a long time ago. From a person who was older than you are, in fact._

"Why would anyone try to kill you? Much less, try to behead a woman like you?"

 _Takasugi, do you really want to know about my past?_

"Shoyou-sensei was just like that, too. He never told us anything. He never opened himself up, but he managed to crack open each of us to trust, respect and love him." Takasugi lit his pipe and leaned on the table and continued, "And then he was gone. I was curious as to whether you're the same person, Shuyo."

Shuyo's expression shifted just a bit before her brush moved again, _Shoyou Onii-sama was, and I am, the kind of person who can do nothing but wander in the first place. He was the sort of person who was able to make a home out of anywhere he went, adapted and nurtured anyone around him. He only moved when it was needed. I am the kind of person who wanders because I have no choice and no home. If he was someone people could go to, then I am someone who leaves and moves on. I am a traveler, while he was a wanderer._

He understood what she was saying. So, in the end, neither of them were the kind of persons who was able to be caught and held down. That meant that even if Shoyou hadn't been arrested and executed, he would have still moved on to another place. It would have been impossible in the first place to hold him down at all.

"I… see."

 _Takasugi, Shoyou Onii-sama cared for you and every one of his students. That has never changed, nor will it ever. But there are things in this world that even you cannot cross or handle._

He barked out a short, mocking guffaw. "Things in this world that I cannot cross or handle… such as death? That's funny, because I deal with death in this Hell everyday, and my dealing with bargains has made death another skin I wear. Death is the most natural thing that's occurring in this world, unlike the ambitions of useless figureheads and those of brainless idiots."

His right green eye glared down at her with a spark of rancor. "And the remaining world you speak of abandoned him, killed him, _slaughtered_ him. What kind of light can you see in such a pitch black world as this? Sensei was the only goodness in this rotten world, and the world didn't even know that he was the only good. I won't ever forgive that fact."

 _So you chose to destroy the very thing Shoyou Onii-sama taught you and made you love? To destroy and recreate this world which you call corrupted and rotten? Takasugi, if-_

He interrupted with a scoffing laugh, "Love? Shoyou-sensei never made me love this world. This world was only worth living in while he was. I've never had an affinity nor any sort of loyalty in this world, nor have I ever protected it because of it's value. This life I'm living, my sword and my morality – everything, was given to me by that person. He was my reason for living. And now, the only reason I persist in living is to obliterate from existence the things that erased his existence."

Shuyo's expression remained unchanged; it was calm and grim as she continued to listen to Takasugi.

"If _you_ are truly sensei's flesh and blood, would you not want the same thing? His student – _your brother's student who loved him as a father_ , killed him with his very own hands – sliced through his neck just as yours despite my pleas, the first pleas I made to another person in my life. If you saw and felt as we did, when everything precious was taken away from us the day we were bound and could do nothing as he died in front of our eyes – **_you would have begun to abhor this wretched world as I do now!_** " Takasugi stopped, realizing that he was already screaming; his palms were already sweaty, his pupils dilated, his muscles bunched up and tense, and his entire being brimming with anger at the memory – at the very mentioning of what happened that day. Hatred and anger whirled in his eye, oozing and directed at the person in front of him.

Even under her soft, firm gaze, his anger did not subside.

Why did she still stare at him with those warm eyes of hers? No pity, no hurt, no kind of disgust was reflected in those grey circles. Only compassion and understanding. But why? He already knew that he was destroying, and in the process of destroying what her brother had taught and left behind. Did that not make her hate him? The fact that he was nullifying, twisting Shoyou's teachings?

 _The very reason I am here alive, in front of you and do not feel anything but this calmness within me, Takasugi, is because I knew what Shoyou Onii-sama wanted. He wanted to save you three, the three that he had begun to feel were the most precious things to him in his life, from going beyond the world he knows of so well. He wanted to save you as much as you did him. If Gin-_.

Before she could finish writing the kanji for Gintoki's name, Takasugi clenched her chin and forced her to look up at him with a dark eye, "Do not mention his name in front of me. Even if you are sensei's sibling, I won't forgive you if you dare bring him up in my presence with sensei's face. I cannot stand it."

He let go of her and stood to walk to the door when Shuyo grabbed his sleeve, almost desperately. There was a small ripple spreading in her eyes as she looked up at him, _You cannot stand to even hear the name of your teacher's other disciple, for the hatred you hold for him? For killing Shoyou Onii-sama, you plan to kill him as well? Takasugi… do you plan to end up ridding everything at the cost of your soul?_

Takasugi wrenched his sleeve from her grip and continued to walk forward. "If that's what it takes, then I will without hesitation."

She watched his backside with sad eyes. _Onii-sama… what am I to do?_

* * *

It had been another three weeks since their last conversation, and Shuyo was kept continually in Takasugi's room, and more as a guest than a prisoner. She never asked for anything besides the usual meal and the short walks around the ship to stretch her legs, and was always more than willing to engage in a talk with anyone and teach them how to draw and paint, as well as reading and writing for the handful of illiterate samurai on board. Thanks to that, she was able to learn the purpose of the crew, who and what the Kiheitai were… and also take in new students.

It had been three weeks since Takasugi had last seen her.

Finishing the last brushstroke to the sheaf of wheat wavering gently in the invisible wind against a bright blue sky, Shuyo's grey-light brown eyebrows slowly wrinkled. Within her composure, the first thing that was on her mind all this time was about her brother's disciple.

It wasn't an understatement to say in the least, that she was worried. His mentality, his entire existence, and his thoughts were so fixated on revenge, bordering on a broken conscious and of madness. And all as a feeble attempt to douse the sadness and mend his cracked soul when such an important person was taken away – such a reaction wasn't unheard of, and she couldn't blame him.

And to think that her brother was the reason for such a beginning… she couldn't blame Takasugi for that, either. In a way, her brother and him, were similar.

Raising her head and leaning against the wall after clearing her tools and the new painting to dry in a corner, she closed her eyes.

* * *

 _She was huffing as she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. The gash on her arm dripped with fresh new blood, and in her other arm she tightly held onto the green notebook. Grey, light brown hair fluttered in the red light of the sunset which illuminated the truly bloody battlefield behind her._

 _Corpses of masked and cloaked littered the ground and spread over the path, and the loud clanging of metal against metal echoed in the air. Screams abounded, as well as that of battle cries and silent swings and the sound of falling bodies. The stench of blood hung heavily in the area._

 _"_ _The wench is getting away! Get-," the shouting was cut off abruptly, and Shuyo didn't have to turn around to know it was him._

 _Water welled up in her eyes as she tripped on a stray rock and fell. Besides the physical pain, she felt more from panic and sadness than fear for herself. If there was any fear to be felt, it was for her brother._

 _She didn't turn around as she wiped the dust from her kimono and continued to run forward and quickly hide behind the tree and cover her ears and close her eyes._

 _There had been a number of times… a repeated number of the same tries and events that occurred, just like this one._

 _All she had to do was close her eyes and wait for everything to end. It would end soon. It always ended in a short amount of time._

 _"_ _Shuyo… it's over. Are you alright?" She didn't have to raise her head to know it was him. He would always come to her like this; covered head to toe in blood, with one sheathed katana at his side and smiling calmly, reassuringly._

 _And with that rather crazed, blood-lusted look in his eyes._

* * *

The leader of the Kiheitai was in his usual position, standing in front of the large pane of the ship's head, looking out into the endless array of stars and smoking his kiseru. In the most of times, he would only be biting on his kiseru to hold back and stroke the beast inside of him, nurturing it, provoking it, readying to unleash it fully without limit when the time came.

But this time, he was trying to gather his thoughts after his conversation with Shuyo.

Maybe it was just because she said such a thing while having his face. It felt like he was being scolded, reprimanded, lectured by Shoyou again, but the fact that it wasn't _him_ just ripped open old wounds and left him to bleed.

He knew. He already knew, better than anyone, that Shoyou would never come back, and that everything he'd been doing for revenge, wasn't for anyone nor did anything, but for himself to lick his internal scars.

After the war, he'd been in mourning for a very long time. And when he'd looked back at his comrades, they'd already moved on, living in a way that was almost insulting to his teacher. Living, almost like Shoyou never existed to teach them everything they knew now. He'd thought that if he didn't do something, if he didn't _act_ to do something, Shoyou would only be a mere memory to him – just another existence blotted out from history, abandoned by the country and by people who either feared or hated him.

That was what drove him onto the brink of insanity. The world which had taken him away, was now trying to erase his presence and crumble from corruption and weakness.

And now it was Shuyo who was making him waver, making his entire being shake in a very different way; it was like his teacher had been resurrected and was now merely trying to bring him back to who he was before. His weak self. His young, immature, vulnerable self who was unable to protect anyone.

So when he thought of his teacher's twin, all he could feel was a convoluted mess of emotions: anger, irritation, shame, comfort, longing and nostalgia. He was beginning to feel, as if he was a human being once more.

And that, was the problem.

* * *

 **Fufufu... so, how was this one?**

 **Please leave reviews - feedback would be very much appreciated and welcome!**

 **See you all soon...**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello, my dear readers, and enjoy, as usual~**

 **Thank you for your reading, as always^^ (Xliaf27-san, ShiroyaMakuro-san^A^)**

 **Disclaimers: Gintama does not belong to me**

* * *

"Shinsuke, are you planning to let her go when we land in Edo-gozaru?"

Said person didn't answer, merely exhaled deeply and kept the kiseru in his mouth. If anything, Bansai would have said that he was rather sullen. Irritation and anger was rolling off of his stance in waves, making it clear that he was in a very bad mood. Ever since he had taken a rather long conversation with Shuyo three weeks ago after the Noragami had invaded the Kiheitai ship, he had refused to go and see her, occupying himself with other things like taking care of the ship… which was absolutely odd and out of behavior.

It was clear that something happened between them. The other day, even when Bansai had taken a bit of a visit to Shuyo, he noticed that in her usual silence, there was a vibration… like a wavering start of a crescendo. There was a sound that he could hear from her actions and expression.

The only person who could stir his leader so much besides that silver haired perm was probably this person. His fingers twitched at the sudden thought. What if… what would it be like, if he could fight _her_? And how would Takasugi react to that?

"He'd kill me, probably-gozaru." He muttered, rubbing the part of his head where Takasugi had thrown the blunted knife. He had thrown it immediately after Bansai asked the question and continued to comment on how he was acting like a brat who was mad at his mother. "But then again, there's an interesting thought… another potential, beautiful song is about to be born-gozaru… I'm looking forward to it."

* * *

The shadow flicked a kunai at the shoulder of the man and laughed as he squealed. It stepped up and slapped the shaking samurai. "Oi, oi, it's going to be troublesome if you faint, so keep up, okay?" it turned around to face the kitsune masked man sitting on another pile of corpses and licking blood off his dao blade by lifting the mask just a bit to reveal a bloody grin. "Oh, that's an interesting thing to hear, ne, Kuso?"

"Yep! Uwah, I'm so glad to hear that I can get at that woman again now. She's going to be fun to play with. But man, these guys were a bore. Just because they were a part of the Kiheitai, I thought that they would put up more of a fight, but that's not the case at all, is it? Now there was no point in getting all these hostages."

"That's because you got impatient. Were there any good potential ones here?"

Kuso sighed, shaking his head. "I suppose those five are the best, though. So, they're going to Edo next to resupply?"

When the shaking man didn't answer, the shadow stabbed three daggers through his arm and repeated the question. The man bit his tongue, refusing to answer again, and blood overflowed like a waterfall from his mouth.

"Tsk. He already told us, and now he has the guts to kill himself? Honestly, this is why I hate humans. They're such an annoying race. So fickle, too." Jorugumo muttered in his corner, looking at the small cat's cradle made of flesh intertwined in his fingers.

"You shouldn't say that, Jorugumo. That's what makes them so interesting, right? And it's those souls of theirs that make it so delicious after you break and enjoy yourself when you play with them."

"Kuso, don't get ahead of yourself. The master comes first."

"Hai, hai. All I want is a taste of that woman's blood, that's all. I'm sure it'd be exquisite to savor when she's blooming."

* * *

 _Nn… it's fairly warm…_ Shuyo thought as she woke, a little dazed from her short nap and righted up from her position, noticing that she wasn't alone. Her haori, which had been put to the side, was covering her, along with another blanket on her lap.

"Yoshida-dono, we're about to land, and Shinsuke requested your presence-gozaru." It wasn't Takasugi in front of her, but she knew that he had dropped by. She could still faintly smell that distinctive smell of smoke, after all.

Smiling wryly, she nodded and pulled on her haori and started to gather her things when Bansai interrupted. "Just yourself would be enough-gozaru. He didn't seem as if he wanted to kick you off when we landed-gozaru."

He turned around and opened the door, waiting until she passed by.

 _How… has he been?_

Glancing at her question, Bansai didn't answer for a full minute and merely walked forward. It was when she closed her notebook that he said, "It's what he wants to know of you, as well-gozaru."

 _So he's doing well enough, I see. Thank you for checking on him, Kawakami-san_.

He paused in his stride and turned to look at her directly. "Yoshida-dono, who and what are you to Shinsuke, exactly?" at her blank stare, he elaborated, "Your calm silence, and those small vibrations of a sound have stirred Shinsuke's beast. His song, which has always been the same – crazed, chaotic yet centered on one tune only and raw – has changed just slightly-gozaru. What exactly, are you doing to bring such a change in him, hm?"

Shuyo didn't answer, and silence filled the hall of the ship. She startled when steel strings appeared from nowhere and started wrapping her body, raising her high into the air. On close inspection, these strings were from his shamisen…

"I, and the other Kiheitai follow Shinsuke only because of his promise to destroy the Bakufu and create a new government. To rip apart the world's foundations and start over – to bring back the age of old. But his song, which has begun quivering just a little bit, is vulnerable enough to hinder that goal of his. So I am asking you, Yoshida-dono, must I rid of you, even if it is at the cost of my life, so that Shinsuke won't go astray?"

She stared down at the loyal second in command for a moment, before smiling and trying to hold up her notebook. She needed to be let down to write a response, after all. He did let her feet touch the ground, but the tight web of steel didn't loosen on her body at all.

 _I have no intention of trying to change his mind about his goal. If that is the path that he's chosen as a samurai, and the code of Shido that he's chosen to follow, then I cannot say anything. I am not anyone to change that for him._ After reading her response, he started to relax the tightening grip around her, but she added, _But if it is at the cost of sacrificing his soul that he has to do so, then I will stop him. Even if that does mean I must kill him, then I will_.

His eyes widened behind his shades at the strong glare in her eye that reflected her resolve. "At the cost of his soul, eh… that is certainly, an interesting perspective-gozaru. But why go all the way there? Shinsuke, if I remember, isn't exactly anyone to you either, is he-gozaru?"

Shuyo shrugged and started wiggling to get out of the strings, and he let her do so, pulling back and continuing to go down the hall. _Let's just say that it was a bit of a request from someone that I do so._

* * *

 _I have a request to make of you, Takasugi._

Bansai read it aloud for her because Takasugi didn't turn around, much less greet her when she came in the main hall of the ship where a large group of the men had gathered in groups for supplies. They were close to landing in a safe place on the outskirts of Edo without being spotted by troublemakers.

 _I want you to come with me on a bit of a walk_.

Matako, who had been right at hand cocked her gun at Shuyo, growling, "Oi, who do you think Shinsuke-sama is, to just go on a plain stroll at this time?! What are you going to do if he-,"

"Matako, if you have nothing useful to say on my behalf, then don't talk back to Shuyo." Takasugi's sharp remark made the girl flinch, and she lowered her chin with a red scowl on her face, but stayed quiet under his order.

"You've been locked in here for weeks, and the first thing you say to me is a request… you're still cheeky as ever, Shuyo."

 _I don't ever remember being so, but I take that as a yes?_

When he answered her, everyone else shuddered at his frosty gaze, as well as the chilling tone and biting words, "Consider it a farewell gift."

* * *

"What is Shinsuke-sama thinking, letting that woman do whatever she wishes…" Matako muttered, biting her lip as her eyes followed the silhouettes of the two as they walked out of the ship, side by side. Frustration, fear and jealousy rose like a wave, threatening to clog her and drag her down.

"Takasugi-dono never acts without good reason, Matako-san." The self-proclaimed feminist walked up to her and commented.

"I know that. But the timing is weird. Every time that woman, or anything involving her was bad. The arrival of the Noragami came only after that woman got on board; Shinsuke-sama's sudden declaration to concentrate on destroying them instead of the Bakufu… the timing… it's-,"

"You're implying that that woman is actually another being's tool in order to bring the Kiheitai down, but I very much doubt that it's true. If she were, then the first time the Noragami had attacked our ship directly, they would have taken her along with us out entirely. Their weaponry, ship and crew were all of a different kind – superior to ours, and never seen before, but powerful. I daresay that if they were truly serious, they wouldn't have taken all that time to just wipe us out. But they hadn't, even warning us for the next time we would clash."

"That seems funny, seeing all the damage we took. You're saying they have another agenda – like assessing us for the first time they were here." Matako thought back to the time when that Noragami fighter with the two katanas had fought with her – he'd killed the ones who hadn't been warriors, but simple crewmen who were a part of the ship's maintenance – and he hadn't killed her, even though he probably could have by knocking back the sliced bullets with those katanas of his. He surely had the skill to.

"Preci~sely, Matako-san. Even if you're a thickheaded guns-woman, you understand well where the brains are due."

A vein throbbed in her face as she cocked the barrel of her gun into his head and snarled, "I'm going to ignore that, you lolicon bastard."

"Oh, please. I wasn't even finished there," Takechi didn't stiffen, but he pointed a trembling finger at the gun, trying to push it away from his head. "Resorting to violence before everything is very brash, Matako-san. And especially more so in combat."

"That's funny, coming from a guy who doesn't do any heavy lifting." She muttered, spitting disgustedly. "But that woman's been here and been a goody-goody, earning everyone's loyalty. If she's trying to turn Shinsuke-sama's subordinates against him, then-,"

"That is only because it seems to be in her nature. She was a wandering teacher before she was brought here, Matako-san. I heard it from her directly. And the only reason why everyone seems to be besotted with her is because she is quite the-,"

"If you say 'catch', I will throw up on you."

"Well then, stop interrupting!" Takechi cried out, exasperated. "I was going to say, charismatic beauty."

She shot at his sleeves, close enough to nick skin, earning a yelp from her senpai, muttering, "That's just because you like women who wear kimonos like she does, you perverted hentai samurai."

"For goodness sake's, what is wrong with you and that comment?! If you're trying to draw from your observation how I've never laid a hand on you because you don't wear yukatas and kimonos like a good woman should at her blossoming age, then you're wrong, for goodness sake's! Are you deliberately trying to make me some kind of kimono-woman obsessed person who has a fetish for children?!"

Matako smirked, "You just admitted it."

Ignoring it, the Kiheitai's strategist continued, "Yoshida-dono is not a child! She even wears men's kimonos and haoris, blending in quite well, in fact, and for the last time, I am NOT a hentai! Just a feminist who loves children!"

"Or so you've said for the hundredth time."

"It was the thousandth and fifth time, but I'm going to ignore that. And even if she were a traitor, the reason Takasugi-dono granted that request of hers was to rid of her now."

"And if she's only bait that led him into a trap?"

"You don't think that he's such a weakling, do you? You'll see. Ah, and might I say though, jealousy is a very unbecoming trait for a woman."

She retaliated by shooting at his head.

* * *

 **Things are going to get much more interesting in the next chapter, so stay tuned...**

 **Please leave reviews! Your encouragement means much to me! /^o^/**


	7. Chapter 7

**Krabbit here... the story's far from over yet... thank you for keeping up with me so far, dear readers...**

 **Reviews will be appreciated!**

 **Disclaimers: Gintama does not belong to me**

* * *

The path was filled with silence as they made their way forward, using the moonlight to guide their way. The evening air was cool, and crickets chirped in the tall grasses of the steadily ending summer. That large mountainous terrain behind and surrounding a small, tucked away place and the small rice patches; the familiar sakura trees… This was an area in the mountains; a country-side that Takasugi could recognize so well even if he didn't see it to remember.

This was… this place was – "Shoka Sonjuku."

She had brought him to his old school, where everything had begun. "How did you know… no, there was no need, was there. Anyone would've told you about the grey haired samurai who raised his students to rebel against the Bakufu and become hitokiris… and how this place was burned down in order to keep the peace of Japan."

 _No. I visited this place quite often before you came to this school, Takasugi. And this was the place where I'd always sent my letters to my brother every so often._

Shuyo walked past Takasugi to step into the crumbling ruins of the once marvelous school her brother had raised. She put her hands together and bowed to an invisible figure, paying her respects as she sat down on a large piece of rotting wood… wood that used to be the base of the school's teaching room. She wrote something again and held it up, motioning for him to come closer. A warm smile came to her face as she wrote, _This may be long, but are you willing to listen?_

"Sensei would scold me if he knew that I ignored a person's dying wish."

She opened her mouth in a silent laugh and started to write.

 _Onii-sama never mentioned me in his life, and no one's ever seen me before because I would always visit in secret. Even if they did, they would mistake me for Shoyou Onii-sama and let it go. The first time I'd visited him in person was after many years of separation. Since he wandered just like me, I was never able to know where he was, you see, until I heard rumors of a lone samurai who lived in an abandoned dojo with a silver haired child. He told me about his plans to make a school for children, to give something to those children after..._

She stopped writing, refusing to finish the sentence and continued, _We'd kept in contact over the years, until his letters stopped suddenly. By the time I came again to this place, everything was burned down and gone. And I was only able to hear from him after… he was executed. He'd left letters in his place, unsent letters that finally reached me through another student of his. Most of them were small things, like how everything was in prison. How well he was, and how productive he was since he'd gotten a new student._

 _And he talked about you, Takasugi._

He stared at her in silence. _Of course, he talked about you and the others before in his letters. How troublesome you three were in his lessons and in his life, quarreling over petty things and always vying for his attention. So imagine my surprise when I saw you right now, almost unchanged from yourself 10 years ago. You're still childish and immature at times, but thoughtful in his own way and awkward sometimes -._

"That has nothing to do with this, does it, Shuyo."

 _That pout is the same. Shoyou Onii-sama explained so well in his letter—_

"I very much doubt that you brought me all the way here to tell me what a pubescent man I am."

She smiled, undoubtedly humored by his put off retort. _That's true. Onii-sama… wanted me to watch over you. You, and the rest of his students. To make sure that-_

"Ooh~ so you're an older woman? I like that. I'm quite an old looker myself." The foreign voice interrupted before Shuyo could write another line down. She put down her brush as Takasugi stood, turning to face the new arrivals. Neither of them had sensed the Noragami's presence.

"Are interrupting conversations your fetish or something, shi—no, Kuso?" he asked, and the leader of the Noragami laughed, brandishing his dao blade.

"You were about to say shit, weren't you? Ah, hahaha, I love that mouth of yours! Honestly, this is why humans are so fun to play with," the first thought that ran through Takasugi's mind was that he was so similar to a combination of Kamui and that Sakamoto. The kitsune-masked man stopped laughing as his other hand swished out to ready his men to attack, "But I can't play with you today, I'm afraid. I'm here to take that woman with me."

Involuntarily, Takasugi's body moved to cover the person behind him as he reached for his katana. "For what reason do you need a mute invalid for?"

Jurogumo stepped up this time, remarking, "It's a good thing you see her that way, then. If she's not valuable to you, she's diamonds worth of value to us. She's a rare one, that woman, after all. And it would be such a shame if-,"

He was promptly interrupted when a small pebble flew at his forehead and cracked the mask, popping his head back in a 45-90 degree angle.

Takasugi turned to see Shuyo, who lowered her hand and smiled at him, _When you try to harm someone, you never should talk so much. In the battlefield, it means life or death._

"He _was_ a little too talkative." He yielded with a smirk, then grabbed her arm, twisting her around and threw her at them.

Some of them looked confused, but Kuso, who had quickly recovered and managed to catch her on time, only said, "I knew you were smart, despite that mouth of yours."

"Don't get me wrong, you piece of shit. That woman was never anything to me. She was just a temporary replacement for someone who will never come back. I was planning to get rid of her anyway." Takasugi said, scorn filling his voice. He started to walk past the group and down the path of parted Noragami members, a hard expression on his face. He didn't dare turn back around to look at what kind of expression Shuyo was making.

"Okay, then. Well, thanks." Kuso easily shifted his weapons around to hold onto Shuyo tightly, chuckling. She flinched when he touched her neck, tracing the scars rounding them and whispered. "But you're quite the catch, really… I feel like it's almost a shame, making you a sacrifice. We could've had so much _fun_ together…"

Blood suddenly gushed behind them like fountains as several of the Noragami's Amanto and samurai fell to the ground with gaping wounds on their bodies. Jorugumo whipped out his two katanas in alarm, while Matsuiro flung out his twin chain whips.

"What the hell are you doing, you bastar-," one Amanto cried out, drawing his sword when Takasugi made a silent slash, lopping off his head.

"You're damn loud. When did I say that I'd leave you alive, hm? I was planning to get rid of her along with all the nuisances. Did I forget to add that part?"

Kuso started laughing manically, slamming his dao blade into the ground. "I would love to. But I'm not the kind of guy who forgets his mission in a lust for blood, you see. If you still want to duel, then-,"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Takasugi had lunged at him directly, whilst managing to take down several of the weaker bunch who couldn't even take the time to protect themselves for his death blows. Just when Matsuiro and Jorugumo tried to help out their leader, gunshots rang out in the air, and rather familiar metal strings wrapped around the arms of the chain wielder, pulling tight enough to draw blood.

The Kiheitai, who had been on a standby in the shadows and followed the two to the school finally appeared to aid their leader.

"Shinsuke-sama, are you alright? You bastard from that time, I'll be sure to take your head this time!" As soon as the two met, Matako and Jorugumo engaged in another battle while Bansai continued the duel with the other opponent.

On the other side, Kuso's large dao blade was raised to clash against Takasugi's metal katana, resounding loudly. The impact kicked up dirt around them, shielding the three in a screen of dust.

"Judging by all these new arrivals, I suppose the party's just going to get started now, no?"

"It seems that you're mistaking an execution for a party, you shitty pervert."

"Oi, oi, who are you calling a pervert? I'm a well grown man, unlike you, who's still a kid!" Kuso managed to push back from Takasugi and leaped back, tossing Shuyo to another shadow that popped up from behind a tree. The shadow had taken off a black cloak and revealed a fairly attractive looking shinobi woman of about twenty or so, with black hair, pale white skin and an elegant poise. "Shizuko, check if she's the right one, will you? If she is, we won't have to gather anymore sacrifices and I can play with this guy."

The shadow Shizuko sighed, and grabbing Shuyo firmly in her grasp, switched her hands around to firmly grasp her throat. A red light started emanating from her hands, and Shuyo winced, opening her mouth in a silent scream. It must have been more than just a minute when Shizuko turned to Kuso, who was still fending off Takasugi's blows.

"Kuso, this woman's the right one. With her, Master will finally reawaken once more-," the interruption came from Shuyo herself, this time. She'd stuck out her left hand to hit Shizuko's chin to break from her grasp and stepped back slightly, grimacing. But before the shadow could reach out her hand again, a knife came flying out from the risen dust and stabbed through her wrist, drawing a crimson spring.

Shuyo looked back at Takasugi, who had his left hand out from still having thrown the knife, while fending off with the other hand, a large dao blade that continually came chopping down, as if to stubbornly crush the thin katana.

"Shizuko, if you let her get away, you'll have to end up being a bad replacement, you know.~" Kuso chuckled with clenched teeth, bleeding from under his mask and in several places where Takasugi had cut through his kimono. "And I thought that you weren't trying to protect that woman, but aren't you just trying to cut me down so I won't get to her?"

"Don't mistake my actions for such human emotions. It's been a long time since I've felt anything besides this burning hatred for this world. One woman isn't going to change that now."

"No?" Kuso's cracked kitsune mask started crumbling, revealing a red, bloodshot eye that peered at Takasugi from a mass of burnt flesh. "Then you won't interfere in her… removal? Like I've said… she's a very valuable jewel we need. And seeing how you've already used your secret weapon, I assume you're out of tricks already, so I'll just get rid of you, along with the-,"

He wasn't able to finish as Takasugi kicked him in the face with his knee, then stabbed angrily into Kuso's left arm, before quickly drawing up his weapon to block the impending swing. "That woman, though, is not someone who you should touch so readily."

A large boom succeeded his sentence, and now everything went up in licking, hungry flames and dust.

* * *

Shuyo could only watch as everything burned in her eyes once again. Just like that time, where everything would be dyed red from blood and from the setting sun or rising star. This time… everything was about to be swallowed up in flames. Her memories, the reality which was now, were both lighting up in that blood-red hue again.

Before the explosion and flames erupted, she'd seen two shadows eclipse the sky, covering up everything in a shadow of two ships. One was the Kiheitai battle ship, whilst one was a larger, unfamiliar battle ship that belonged to the Noragami.

It didn't take a lot of work to know that the first time the Noragami had sabotaged the Kiheitai, they were stronger than them by several notches. The weaponry they used; the mechanics of their ships; the actual fighters themselves… but more than that, she knew that none of the leading fighters were human. It was a given that the Kiheitai would be wiped out soon if this fight continued…

And it was certain that Takasugi would die if he continued against Kuso.

That was what chilled her to the bone at the moment. It wasn't her own death that scared her, but her helpless self who would be unable to do anything once again as everything else around her was painted with blood.

As she watched him fight with almost inhumanly quick moves, shedding blood from one slash for every three he received, a devastating silence came over her. If she didn't pick up the sword to kill, not only Takasugi, but everyone else fighting for their leader would die by the Noragami's hand. But if she did, her conscience would break. She had already seen too much deaths take away lives; too much bloodshed in front of her eyes; and she'd sworn never to kill anyone. No – she had promised _him_ never to.

Gripping what remained of her broken brush, she hastily stabbed her index finger to draw blood and started to write her last in the notebook.

* * *

This was one of the many times Takasugi was grappling with such an annoying and troublesome adversary. The only other time he'd had trouble was when he dealt with Gintoki in their past duels, and he was just human.

He didn't want to admit it, but facing him directly this time was difficult. His bandage was already torn in one side and flopping around, and the blood dripping from his forehead continued to drip into his good eye. He was bleeding from a gash in both his arms, and a gaping wound decorated his right side, left shoulder and both legs.

And he didn't want to think so, but Kuso was quite the formidable opponent. His skill with that large dao blade and agility, equipped with the kunai made him hard to defend and attack at the same time.

But more than anything, in the midst of their struggle, Takasugi had noticed that each wound he inflicted on Kuso healed in a matter of minutes. He wasn't human.

"Oi, oi, what's the matter with you, Mr. Kuro-kemono? You're becoming slower with each second, you know!" the Noragami leader lifted his large blade and brought it crashing down on Takasugi's katana… breaking it into shards.

For the split of a second, he stared down at the broken blade, half of it still attached wholly to the hilt. In the battlefield, being weaponless meant death. Without his weapon, Takasugi was completely open and vulnerable to the green weapon that swung straight down to—

'Unless I send him to Hell before me.'

Even if his weapon would no longer be for combat use, he could still use it to get at Kuso's heart. He didn't plan on dying anytime soon, so he might as well get rid of the nuisance now.

 _Clink_.

In the next moment, all fighting stopped, and all eyes were fixated on the three figures who were in the middle of a giant cracked, open crater made by the impact of a single katana.

"Ohya, oya. What a surprising interference." Whilst Kuso had stopped at the very last minute and stopped before he was able to slice Takasugi into two, Takasugi had ended up shedding blood.

Drops of crimson dribbled down his broken weapon, which was half blocked by a very familiar looking katana, and half stabbing into the sleeve of a grey haori.

That firm glare directed at the enemy was just like his teacher's. It was a cold and firm; unyielding and merciless, towards the enemy who had dared to hurt someone precious.

 _I'll come with you now. I'll come with you now, so please stop this and let everyone go._

"You were just handed over by a guy who practically said to your face that you're useless and still you protect him. Honestly, you're an amazing, if not foolish woman." Laughing, Kuso grinned a bloody red smile and licked his lips. "Fine then, as long as you're coming with, we won't exactly need any of these guys, after all." He deftly stepped back and grabbed Shuyo's arm that held onto an unsheathed katana. "Noragami! We retreat for now!"

She wriggled out of his grasp and showed something to him, and he shrugged, saying, "It won't hurt." He left her to say her piece and started calling together the Noragami again and walked away with a smirk.

Once left alone, Shuyo turned quickly to Takasugi, who had been getting up from his sprawled position and readying to kill again. Frowning, she bonked his head lightly and patted it, crouching down so that they were at eye level. She held up her notebook, putting it in his hand with a persistent hold.

"What the hell are you trying to do-," He started, but winced at the blood running from his side and the sudden pain that came rushing with every wound. Because of his bloodlust, he'd been ignoring it, but now that his instincts felt that he was out of immediate danger, his muscles had ended up relaxing and his nerves came back properly conscious of agony.

He couldn't do anything when Shuyo continued to pat his head with her usual smile; just sit there like a child who was being pampered by his mother. Despite his injuries, he was still able to feel her warmth through each gesture.

"Shuyo, you-," he raised his head to look at her directly through all the blood, and stopped. She was smiling at him; a brilliant, kind smile that lit up her whole face and carried no emotion except a deep warmth that he couldn't fathom or understand. But if there was one thing he knew at that instant – she was really planning to give herself up for him.

She reached out this time to wipe his bloodied face with her haori sleeve, mouthing, _Thank you_ before getting back up and walked towards where the Noragami were waiting for her, weapons poised.

The Kiheitai who had been fighting all swarmed to gather around their leader, who could barely get up but was reaching for that retreating back. Matako and Bansai supported him, hoisting each arm around their shoulders and trying to drag him back. Takasugi wrenched free of their support and staggered forward. A few of the samurai tried to follow and help him instead of stopping him, until Shuyo quickly threw the katana in her right hand to stop him from coming further.

She smiled till the very end and refused to bow in a farewell. Smiling, as if she didn't want him to remember her with any other face.

But if there was one thing she didn't know yet in person was the tenacity and stubbornness of a man who refused to give up in any circumstance if there was something he sought.

He would die before he let that person slip away from his grasp again. He would rather die before he could let the enemy go their way while he could still do something.

* * *

"Well, well… what—do you… call… this…?" Blood dribbled from parted lips, barely able to form the words. With a wildly quivering eyeball, Kuso stared at the katana, and at what remained of another weapon that his body was skewered on.

"Your demise to hell." Takasugi grinned, even as blood covered and smeared his lips, his cheek and his chin. His eye swirled with the roar of his black beast, which howled in revelry as his prey faded into the other world.

Jorugumo, Matsuiro and the other Noragami looked in shock as their leader coughed up blood and weakly raised his sword, then let go for good and dropped to the ground, the life going out of his good eye.

Shuyo looked at Takasugi in alarm, reaching for his bloodied hand. She couldn't believe that he had stood back up in his state and had managed to kill Kuso. The moment she'd turned and readied to go onto the already rising ship, Takasugi had picked up Shuyo's katana and thrown it so that it pierced Kuso's heart completely, then ran in a flash and jumped onto Kuso's shoulders as he turned around and stabbed his throat with what remained of his broken katana. With a broken metal shard, he had also gone clean through the kitsune's eye.

The Noragami leader barely had time to register what had been going on, much less defend himself.

After he was done finishing off Kuso, Takasugi sharply pulled back the katana from Kuso's chest, ignoring the blood rushed out from the fresh, fatal wound and barely defended himself as Jorugumo lunged to swipe at his limbs and yanked on Shuyo's arm, jumping back and off the ship, falling to the ground.

"Shinsuke-sama!"

"Yoshida-dono!" the rest of the Kiheitai had gotten them in time to catch them before the two could land in a heap and were quickly rising to defend them should any of the Noragami attack again.

"Shinsuke, are you alright? Yoshida-dono, is he-,"

She looked up at Bansai, trying to cradle Takasugi as gently as possible. She nodded, indicating that he was alive. Breathing out a sigh of relief, the two hoisted the half unconscious man in their arms and tried to go towards the Kiheitai ship, which was landing nearby.

But what was unexpected was that a string of laughter came from the ship's closing door.

A tall figure dressed in red and a white death mask waved at them below, cackling. "You have my thanks and that of my master's for getting rid of a pesky rat, leader of the Kiheitai. For that, we'll leave you for today and let you enjoy what remaining time you have left. Next time, I'll be coming personally to you… Yoshida Shuyo."

Shuyo's expression lapsed into alarm and fear as the Noragami looked straight down at them – at her.

"You bastard, who the hell are you—," Matako shouted, shooting at the ship's metal bottom in a vain effort to get to even one of them before they could get away.

"As our name implies, we are the Noragami. Stray gods who will unite under only one master – the heavens. Alas, I am not the master you seek, nor was Kuso the leader we follow." The door had closed, but still his voice echoed in the place where the ship was slowly disappearing. "And I am only a humble servant of a Lord who will reign once more. You need not know me, for I am everywhere… in darkness."

What remained of the Noragami was that chilling laugh drifting in the wind of the night.

* * *

 **This was the longest chapter I've written yet so far... how was it?**

 **Comments and reviews, nya?**

 **Leave comments, reviews, and see you all next time~**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hallo, everyone!**

 **As usual, thank you for reading... (And for reviewing, Xliaf27 and ShiroMakuro^^)**

 **Please leave comments and review!**

 **Disclaimers: I do not own Gintama**

* * *

 _It was dark and cold. The cold evening air bit into his skin, but Takasugi kept silent._

 _Technically, he was supposed to be at home to practice his calligraphy, but here he was at Shoyou's school, playing along with his sensei and the two children he called his comrades and friends. Despite Shoyou's insistent scolding, Takasugi had refused to go back, begging his teacher for him to stay until he could sneak back in the late darkness safely. Because it would be dangerous, in the end his teacher proposed that they played a game of hide-and-seek and if he won, Takasugi would do as he said without any complaints; if Takasugi won by managing to evade Shoyou till the next hour, he would be allowed to stay the night. Katsura and Gintoki, of course, decided to pipe in (not so much because they wanted to help out their friend in need, but more because they would be allowed to play with their beloved teacher)._

 _"_ _Oi, Takasugi~."_

 _"_ _Shut up, you stupid silver-head! Sensei's going to-," Takasugi hissed, and he quickly spotted a light in the distance. Shushing Gintoki, who was hidden right below him, he stuck closer to the tree, trying to camouflage himself in the nest of leaves._

 _Katsura had already found another place to hide; in the lake with a hollowed out bamboo pipe so he could breathe. Gintoki and Takasugi had teased him about him wanting to become a ninja instead, but Katsura stiffly, and proudly said that sometimes such actions were necessary in order for even a samurai to pass an ordeal in life._

 _Takasugi kept silent as the light in the distance came closer, squinting at it. It was a… well, it was a hand-held lantern made to look like a floating monster head. Laughing to himself, he smiled at his teacher's mischief. He knew too well of Gintoki's fear of ghosts and had decorated it in hopes to lure him out without having to seek him out._

 _The frightful scream that rang out in the air was proof of that._

 _"_ _Oi Shoyou, that was cheating!" the young boy jumped onto Shoyou and pounded his fists into his teacher's torso with a wail._

 _His teacher chuckled and merely patted his head, brushing off the leaves and said, "Oh dear, was it? But I found you now, Gintoki. Now… where might your friends be?"_

 _"_ _One brat is up in the tree while the other's in the pond over there." Gintoki muttered, sticking a finger in his nose._

 _A vein popped in Takasugi's face as he yelled, "YOU SHITTY BRAAAAAAAT!" and jumped from the tree to kick Gintoki's face to the ground._

 _Katsura also popped out from the water and spat out the bamboo, along with some water and a fish that had managed to worm it's way into his mouth. He also jumped at Gintoki, and the three soon were all wrestling with each other and calling names._

 _"_ _What the hell was that for, you bastard?!"_

 _"_ _You cheated, what am I going to do now?!"_

 _"_ _It's not my fault when Shoyou used a dirty trick!"_

 _"That was your fault for freaking out, you dirty brat! Can you still call yourself a samurai with such a weak mentality?"_

 _"Who are you calling a dirty brat? I don't wanna hear that from a kid who's sopping wet with dirty water and fights like a girl!"_

 _"_ _If you didn't ruin it, we could have held out for another hour, damnit!"_

 _The triad only noticed a slowly approaching shadow right behind him when it covered the three completely. This time, three children's voices filled with pain rang out, along with the resounding cracks of the ground._

 _Once the three got back up, Shoyou took off his haori to cover Katsura's wet form and smiled. He rubbed the other two's heads and said, "Fighting among friends is a natural thing to do, but when you do not fight for each other and instead work only to hurt and blame the other entirely is when you must control yourselves and stop."_

 _Turning around, their teacher started walking back on the path back to the school, smiling brightly. "Whoever's the most late on the way back doesn't get any manju." Then he started running._

 _The three stared at their teacher's figure growing smaller in the distance and started shouting, "Sensei, you're the unfair one!" before they followed the same path back to the school._

* * *

When he opened his eyes from the cradle of a distant memory, he could hear the beeping of the ventilator and the fluids rushing through the bags into his body. Ignoring his physical pain, he bit the inside of his cheek until he drew blood. As his mouth filled with that coppery tang, he cursed.

He'd sworn that he wouldn't die before he could destroy the world, and yet he was here because he had unconsciously strove to protect her. Or maybe it was that he already knew that he wanted to protect her, but he was only lying to himself.

As a tool, she was worth nothing to him. Her skills were impressive and her strength was even greater than his, but… she had no will or submissiveness to follow him; much less obey his orders. He had no need for people who didn't submit to him.

But as… a person… as someone who was so closely connected to his past, present and entire being, she was… had become irreplaceable.

That was why he hated her for it. He didn't need such ties when he fixated on his goal, but he couldn't help himself from wanting it badly. He wanted to kill her even, as his thoughts led him; but he already knew that his body would not let him deal any final blow. It was honest, unlike him, and it knew what it wanted to do.

He was stuck in a stalemate.

* * *

 _How is his condition?_

"It isn't the best, but nothing that rest and medicine won't handle now-gozaru. And… he's awake now," Bansai leaned close to her and whispered, "And also throwing a tantrum-gozaru."

She smiled tiredly, _Thank you, Kawakami-san._

It was another three weeks after the Kiheitai last clashed with the Noragami back on Edo; and during those three weeks, it had been somewhat of a hell since Takasugi had been taken in for intense medical care and rest to heal from his wounds. He'd been wrought with deep gashes, half of them laced with poisons all over his body, and suffered from several broken ribs; a fractured wrist and three stabs in his torso, stomach and shoulder… not to mention, he'd lost much blood.

Most of the Kiheitai felt as if they'd lost their leader, brooding and dark. Several of them were injured as well. All that was holding everyone together were the other three main leaders of the Kiheitai.

Matako was still as lively as ever, shooting at anyone who lowered their morale, but she sported sad or irritated faces whenever she passed by Shuyo who waited outside Takasugi's ward.

Bansai was the only one who seemed unaffected by the recent events, while Takechi was calm (only because he didn't participate in the fighting) and organized the supplies and regular soldiers on the ship.

Shuyo on the other hand, hadn't slept for more than an hour a day; the other hours were occupied with her helping the sick and hurt and drawing to preoccupy her mind. But most of the time… she would wait outside the door and sit at his bedside every so often when they allowed her to come inside to nurse him.

She hadn't thought that he would still get her even when she'd willingly gave herself up to the Noragami. Even if she knew that he didn't mean what he'd said, she had thought that his confused state would be enough to let her go. But his obsession with his past failure to save his teacher wasn't enough to let her go – let Shoyou go, perhaps.

Shaking her head slightly, she walked to the door and touched the panel. But before she was able to go in, a blonde haired woman came out, her head covered in bandages and glaring at Shuyo. Bansai had already walked away, humming to the song he was listening to.

"Oi, can we talk?"

The two women locked eyes for a long time until Shuyo nodded and held up the notebook. _You don't mind if Takasugi gets left waiting?_

Matako, who would have usually blushed and bit her lip even at the mention of her crush, only furrowed her eyebrows and frowned. "Even so."

The older woman nodded, and immediately sat down where she stood, patting the ground next to her, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Oi, what the hell are you doing?! This isn't a petty girl's chat we can do in the hall right now!"

 _But I'm not in a position to say anything, I'm afraid, Kijima-san. But if you insist, we can communicate by writing. Would that be alright with you?_ Shuyo smiled at the flustered girl, still patting the floor.

Frowning further, she plopped down and yanked the brush from Shuyo. 'Do you like Shinsuke-sama like I do?'

If the blunt question was startling, Shuyo didn't show it. She calmly got her brush back and wrote, _Are you afraid of me being a rival, Kijima-san?_

"There's no way Shinsuke-sama would like an old hag like you, though."

Shuyo laughed softly, and responded, _So you were just worried about Takasugi. You're a very good girl, Kijima-san. Though he may not look like it, he needs such people around him. And even if he doesn't show it, I know he's appreciative of you Kiheitai, in his own way_.

"That's just big talk to you. We don't even know who you are, and yet it's like everyone trusts you, including Shinsuke-sama. I for one, don't like you." Matako bit out, letting out a sigh. "You laugh at every little thing someone says, and is too quick to smile at anyone, and don't ever kill or get angry. You're mute and scarred, but you carry inside of you something that I don't have. It was what drew me to Shinsuke-sama, after all. There's no way I can't recognize it."

Grey eyes looked at her in surprise, and Matako snorted at the response. "I've watched you for a while, you know. I was trying to figure out what it was about you that made Shinsuke-sama bring you to our ship. And I'm not as stupid as Takechi-senpai might think, and not so dull as to notice someone who's of a greater caliber than I am."

It had taken quite a bit of courage to scourge up to talk to Shuyo. A woman whom Matako considered… well, of a different kind of person at all. It meant that she had to swallow her personal, petty feelings to make the right choice and act in the best interests of a person important to her. Treating Shuyo like a pesky insect and letting stupid emotions cloud her judgment in whatever she did was not something that Takasugi needed in the Kiheitai. She knew that if she didn't talk it out somehow with her adversary, she would continue to be bitter, and that bitterness would turn into a grudge and eventually overshadow her conscious, interfering with her battles. Whatever she felt that she would get from this wasn't anyone's approval or appraisal. It was just so that she would let go of unnecessary burdens that got in the way of her shooting.

"And, I… I-!" Matako turned to face Shuyo again when a pale hand reached out and patted her head. Matako, who had already seen Shuyo's skill with the katana that rivaled Takasugi's, froze up, her body instinctively fearing the hand that had the ability to cleanly chop her up. But the pat was a gentle, warm one, and not at all what she expected, either.

That smile was getting annoying, though. "What-what are you doing?!" before she could slap away Shuyo's hand, Shuyo held up her notebook.

 _One's strength does not come from just their abilities, nor their physical strength. You already possess a strength that I do not have, a strength that belongs to no one else but you. There's no need to feel down when you compare yourself to someone like me._

 _But because of that, I know that I can trust you with Takasugi's welfare in the future, as well? Even if you don't know of his past, nor know what will happen in the future, that is._

Matako got up, her expression bunched up in a frowning, mocking smile. "You don't even need to ask me of a thing that's given. The only person I'll follow is Shinsuke-sama, and I have no intention of ever leaving him."

With that, she turned swiftly on her heel and walked down the same direction Bansai went.

Smiling, if not a bit sorrowfully, Shuyo got up, patting her haori of the dust. _Onii-sama, it seems that I can always leave him in good hands_.

* * *

Takasugi shifted in the bed, cradling his broken ribs and staring at the woman who stepped into the room. He was connected to bags of fluids and blood and to a ventilator. His breathing and health was at a stable status, despite the number and deepness of the wounds.

But she wasn't smiling as usual when she came in. She just had that blank, serious expression as she held that green, blood-stained notebook in her arms. He could already see the effect of her lack of sleep and proper rest, as Bansai had told him. With visible grey bags under her eyes and a pale, complexion, it wasn't a sight he wanted to see or associate with her.

"You're still here." He had already known. He knew that people like Shoyou, like Shuyo – weren't as fickle or easily swayed by a few petty words to abandon another person. But he felt that he had to say it aloud to make sure she really was here.

Without writing down or relaying anything, Shuyo walked briskly up to him and immediately bonked him on the head. Hard. Extremely hard. Hard enough for him to slam forward on the bed and shake the bed enough to break it and bring it down to the ground. A few of the Kiheitai came in hurriedly, worrying for their leader, but when they saw that Shuyo was there, they crept back out quietly, sensing the tension in the air.

After the dust cleared, Takasugi glared up at the woman who had a faint smile on her face. It was, however, a smile tinged with contrite pain. Like she was feeling guilty for being the cause of his wounds.

"Satisfied?" she helped him up and led him to the bed right next to the broken one. He bit out with a sigh, "Sensei never let me act of line either. Whenever he thought I or any of the others over reacted and fought, he always knocked us on the head or reprimanded us. You're the same."

She pulled the covers over him and reaffixed the lines to the fluids and dragged the ventilator nearby and put the mask back on Takasugi's face. Finding something to sit on, she brought a chair over and sat down, folding her hands over each other.

"You also have the same incorrigible personality, making me open my mouth whenever to talk and engage in conversations that make me lose my head." He struggled to get up, pushing the covers away from him. He had a white patient's kimono on, and his limbs were also bandaged completely in white.

Shuyo frowned but let him do as he wished, supporting him in a sitting position. Whatever he continued to say seemed important enough for him to get up even in his situation, so she decided to hear him out.

"I only speak when I need to and enjoy listening to someone else rather than babble on, but you manage to pull me out of my zone to talk," The pain in his side was throbbing, making blood rush to his head, but he didn't stop. Grabbing her thin wrist, he squeezed to concentrate on her instead and pulled off the oxygen mask from his face, letting the foreign air go into his lungs and shuddering as it did.

He didn't know why he bothered to continue on this rant – maybe it was the medicines he was being treated to, or maybe it was just purely of his own will – but he knew that she had to hear this directly. She was the only person he didn't want to let go never knowing what was happening to him. "You're infuriating enough to be just like Shoyou-sensei but make me angry when I realize that you're not him. Every time I look at you, at your shadow, your profile, your back, I see sensei, but I know you're not him and I feel irritated. Every time you do something that mirrors sensei, you bring memories back from the past that shake me. You always lecture me though you have no right. You've cared for me this short while despite me being no one of importance to you. I _hate_ you as much as I think I need you."

His grip tightened around her, probably enough to make her wince, but she didn't show any indication that she was in pain.

She already knew that right now, he was suffering even more... and pain was something she knew all too well of. "And I want to strangle you to death for it, Yoshida Shuyo."

She covered his hand with hers to still his quivering. With a gasping sigh, he pulled onto her arm so that she eclipsed his figure on the bed. His entire body was screaming at the sudden movements, but he didn't care. Lowering his head onto her shoulder, he said with harsh and shuddering breaths, "I want to bring you down into this hell with me and with this world… to make you understand this hell I've been through. I've even thought why you're alive instead of it being sensei next to me now and I loathe you for it."

He shook slightly when Shuyo wrapped her free arm around his trembling body and stroked his head. It was so gentle and so nostalgic that he felt needy and sick. He was surrounded with her clean, calming scent and her warmth.

"I ask… why… why was it you and not him? Why did it have to be you when it could have been him on that night when I found you? Why was it me at that time… and not him? Why… why… why…?"Takasugi clenched her haori and whispered, "But he's never coming back and I only have this world to curse and despise."

She just quietly continued to stroke his head and kept him in her embrace as he trembled.

Whether it was from rage, grief, shame or of something else… neither one knew.

* * *

 **Yeah... I'm not exactly the best at writing romance in an explicit way. It's subtle, but it's there. Slowly escalating, so please don't kill me yet...**

 **Anyhow, onto the next chapter!**


	9. Chapter 9

**My dear readers, enjoy the new chapter^^**

 **Feel free to comment and review~ (Those actually really help me get going on with the story, so the support will be very much appreciated!)**

 **Disclaimers: Gintama does not belong to me**

* * *

"That was surprising, no? To think that half-dead man actually stood to get at that woman and manage to kill Kuso…" Jorugumo muttered, biting his tongue. Within the Noragami ship, corpses of the dead were piled high, serving as chairs and beds for the Elite leaders.

"It doesn't matter. We have his body back, so master will be satisfied with that for now. And as that bunch are under bad conditions, we can always attack them and reclaim the woman." The red figure said, sitting on the corpse of what remained of their former 'leader'.

Jorugumo commented, "Something tells me that you're not going to let me have the fun, Yamyra... not to mention, something that you're not telling us about that woman."

The so called person, Yamyra did not give any response. Jorugumo tsked, knowing that he was being ignored, and angrily stabbed a random corpse under him with his left katana and started chopping off its fingers. By the looks of the rotting flesh, it was one of the older bodies that had stayed on the floor, unmoved for its burning.

"Master isn't happy, though. He's waited centuries, biding his time, and now even his patience is at the edge of a string. If we don't get that woman, he'll have us be the replacements instead, you know." Shizuko, who was the clairvoyant of the group pointed her pale finger at Kuso's corpse and tapped it, as if her movements could wake the long gone Noragami leader.

"Yeah, yeah, Shizuko. So, exactly, why is that woman so valuable anyway? Kuso was making that fuss over her, and now Yamyra and you too. Why is that?"

"You don't understand because you weren't listening, Matsuiro," Shizuko sighed at the younger Noragami, who was cutting of the torso of a samurai corpse to the tune that no one else was able to hear. "That woman has two souls worth inside her. She's the half of a soul, and she also holds another's soul. One that is as strong as Master. Of course, that woman's own soul is of equal worth, too. It means that she's worth more than a million souls of those samurai in Japan. It means that-,"

At the top of his pile and under his death mask, Yamyra smiled, showing teeth. "After waiting the period of a thousand years, Master can resurrect with just one more sacrifice. And the world will come back to being the way it was."

* * *

The first man spoke up softly, his face pale. "Did you see that?"

"A-ah…" the second responded, nodding. The situation the two had come to look when they went into the room where their leader was healing with was a rather… uncomfortable and embarrassing situation to see. At least, what they had seen was Shuyo embracing Takasugi, who had an expression they'd never seen before. The first thing that people would think would certainly be that the two were comfortable with being romantically affectionate with each other (though, because of their inexperience with women, they wouldn't have thought that it could have been just her helping him sleep or of some other reason why she did so).

"So… so, that was…" The pair were young samurai who'd joined the Kiheitai as doctors, and had also been in charge of taking care of Takasugi when Shuyo couldn't. "That rumor was true? Takasugi-dono and Yoshida-dono are… really lovers…?"

"Hoh, that's a very interesting thing you're talking about…Shinsuke has a lover?" A voice drawled behind them, and the two young samurai shivered, slowly turning around to come face to face with one of the strongest aliens in the universe.

They screamed.

And then there was a hole in the wall.

* * *

"Sorry to bother you two, but we have a visitor who's killing to see you-gozaru."

Shuyo looked up at Bansai, who stood at the doorway of Takasugi's ward. After Takasugi had finished talking, he had ended up falling asleep in her arms, and she had continued to hold him, patting his head as she would do to a child. And she had stayed that way for an entire night, unable to let go of him.

He was still sound asleep, seemingly comfortable in her arms despite being in a sitting position for hours. Two young samurai had come inside a few hours ago to check up on Takasugi, and they'd removed the extra IV's and the ventilator, whispering so as not to wake their leader, that he should be left to sleep and recuperate. They'd told her that only so that she could retire, but she had refused, choosing to stay by his side.

But now what should she do?

She shook her head, and Bansai relayed the message to the person waiting behind the wall and stepped out.

And then the familiar sound of another wall breaking resounded outside the door, along with Bansai's complacent response.

Then the door opened again to reveal a young man who had vermillion colored hair artfully twisted into a braid and a smile that reminded her of another Shoyou. He was dressed in a cape of gray and Chinese clothes that were splattered with blood. In his right hand he held a plum colored umbrella, and in his other he held a wrapped package of red.

He continued to smile as he stepped right up to Shuyo and gave the man in her arms a look-over before his cerulean blue eyes rested on her.

She knew those eyes. They were similar to Takasugi's – the eyes of a killer and a beast, but all without the deep sorrow Takasugi always held onto. This person was just another bloodthirsty beast.

"I see that that guy wasn't joking about Shinsuke being really hurt. But who might you be? Perhaps Shinsuke's rumored lover?" he walked straight up to her so she had to crane her neck to look into his face. "Even though this ship's crew and the Kiheitai call you his lover, no matter how I look at it, it seems like you're more of a mother than anything to him."

She just stared up at him with her usual smile on her face, but didn't respond.

Tilting his head, the stranger pulled up another chair and sat down, putting the package to the side. "Ne, can't you talk?"

She just smiled under his scrutinizing. He tilted further to peer at her neck and nodded. "I see… so you literally can't. You've lost your vocal chords. But to have survived a wound like that, that's pretty amazing. I'm Kamui, you know. Shinsuke's ally. Well, I say ally for now, but he's really my prey."

He crossed his legs and continued the conversation on his own, but his eyes never left Shuyo… those eyes were like that of a predator's who eyed food and was evaluating whether she was worth chasing.

"So you're someone that important to Shinsuke? I heard the details from the other samurai on this ship. I didn't warn Shinsuke for nothing about those Noragami, but I guess he did underestimate them. And I'd just come all this way to relay more important information, too… that's a shame. You don't mind me waiting for him to wake up, hm?"

She continued to smile. Even when he suddenly got up and came close to her face, glaring into her eyes.

"There's something about you that's strange. You're not a killer, but I can already feel that you possess the strength, the skill and tenacity of a killer. You've charmed this ship's crew, and have also captured Shinsuke's attention. Not to mention, I heard that you're also needed by the Noragami. Why is that? Who are you?"

She felt his breath on her face, but her expression, her stance and her heart did not shake. But slowly, she started to move. Taking a brush from her sleeve, she opened the bloodied notebook at her side and wrote, _For someone who is so well informed, you ask a lot of questions, Kamui-san._

Kamui chuckled quietly, and stepped back. "I can't help it if I'm curious. Oh, and that's a compliment. I never eye someone who's weak ever again, after all. But now it seems that I can't ask Shinsuke for food. I was just starting to feel a little peckish, but oh, well."

Now that the conversation had turned rather mundane, Shuyo kept her eyes again on Takasugi, who continued to sleep.

She put her cheek to the top of his head, breathing out and stroking his dark hair. It was soft and long, trailing down to his neck and barely at the top of his shoulders. When he was asleep like this, it looked as if he was free of all the worries and hatred; even if it was just in his dreams. He looked his age as just an elegant young man who was just enjoying a sweet dream.

And it was just… so comfortable to have him there, right next to her, snuggled up in her arms. Like cradling a small child to bed and feeling their warmth and heartbeat through each other's skin; hearing their soft breathing and wanting to protect that small existence.

Before she had known, he had already become irreplaceable to her. She didn't care for him now just due to the promise she made to her dead brother, but on her own, decided that he was important.

"You two seem to be very comfortable with each other." The third wheel commented, starting to open the package he'd brought in and laid it on the bed. "That's odd, if you consider the difference in your characters. I'm not going to wait on him here, but outside, so alert the headphone guy when Shinsuke wakes up, alright, lady?"

She just stared, her eyebrows raised and gave no indication as to whether she heard. Shrugging and smiling, the stranger left. But what diverted her attention wasn't his departure, but at the thing left on the bed.

It was a decapitated head of what looked like the fusing of an Amanto and a human, covered in a cloak with an emblem she knew of… all too well.

* * *

 _It had been like any other day; the sun which set the sky and anything its light rested on in a pretty blood-red._

 _Shuyo, who had crawled up against the trunk of a tree was crying, her body frantically shaking as if she was cold, and tears streaming down her face like two fountains._

 _"_ _No more… no more… no more… Shoyou Onii-sama… no more…" she gasped out, shaking her head and spraying tears. She looked up at her mirror reflection with eyes that pleaded with him. "Please… no more…"_

 _He stood in front of her soaked head to toe in blood. Wearing a black haori and a black formal kimono, with a katana at his side, he looked like a rogue murderer, and with that blood, like a reaper who'd just come from his harvest._

 _The hand that he always touched her so kindly with was dripping wet with blood._

 _Blood ran down his face and fell in drops from his long grey, light brown hair. It was hair that she always loved to play with and brush before going to bed and when she woke up in the morning._

 _Blood traveled down his pale neck and stained his kimono, which used to be grey and of light, brighter colors. He had switched to wearing black soon after he realized his clothes would be ruined. Black… was such a sad, dreary color. It was a color that could only absorb and swallow every other color and no longer change._

 _Blood dripped from eyes that were hooded low and shined with a strange gleam that she'd never seen before. No, it was more that she had always seen, always known, but hadn't stopped to spread. They were eyes that always looked at her so gently…_

 _The brother she'd known in front of her was no different than a bloodthirsty monster, one who took away instead of giving. Cutting down with that sword, without any kind of mercy or remorse reflecting in his blows._

 _It had continued for years… decades… centuries._

 _And it was all her fault. She had put that burden on him, brought him down with those chains for such a long time. But today… today was the day it would all end._

 _"_ _Shuyo, are you hurt?" Her beautiful, bloody brother crouched in front of her, wiping the red into his kimono and reached out. A red finger traced the tear that fell from her cheek, softly. As if she was fragile china that could shatter in moments._

 _"_ _Onii-sama… no more of this. Please. I beg of you… Onii-sama." She continued to cry, holding out her arms and wiping Shoyou's bloodstained face, then held him close, like she always did when it was over._

 _He returned her embrace, but repeated, "Shuyo… are you hurt?"_

 _"_ _Onii-sama… This has to stop." Releasing him, she stared into his face for a long while, writing every feature – even if he was covered in blood – into her mind. This would be the last time she would look at her brother, her twin, flesh of her flesh and blood of her blood… the half of her soul._

 _"_ _Shuyo…?" he echoed, looking confused at her plea. But his eyes were still glazed and gleaming with that blood-lust, and it broke her heart to see him like this._

 _"_ _Onii-sama… for years… for a long time… have you protected me. But I was a fool to realize, too late, that it was destroying you from the inside out. Your mind is breaking; your soul and identity is crumbling away, Onii-sama…" she held him one last time, feeling his heart beat in the same rhythm and pace as hers. "So, Onii-sama, you have to live. I don't want you to survive like we do now, but I want you to live. I'm going to set your soul free."_

 _"_ _Shuyo…?" She let go of him and when she did, so was the katana from its scabbard. "Shuyo, what are you doing—that katana, that sword is meant to protect you-!"_

 _"_ _Onii-sama… I've learned something. Over the years I've watched you bring down countless lives to protect me with this sword, I've also realized that while a sword is something that is used to take away lives and protect one's self… it is not something that should merely murder. It is also meant to protect and save one's soul," she put the blade to her neck in front of his eyes, smiling. "So I am going to protect yours."_

* * *

"I hate the rain." Shuyo startled from her flashback, looking down at Takasugi, who had his eye closed, but spoke loudly enough for her to understand.

Eyes wide, she realized that a lone drop fell from her eye and onto his cheek. She hadn't realized that she was crying at all.

He clenched her sleeve and returned her embrace, breathing in rough strides against her shoulder. "It falls on everything, covering the sky, even the sun and moon and darkness, staining everything and making everything wet. It might be pleasant to look at, but it's not agreeable to touch."

Using her as a bit of a crutch, he started to get out of bed, his hand hitting the package Kamui had left. It toppled over and the head rolled out, along with the cloak.

The green eye stared down at it very calmly, and Shuyo explained, _Kamui-san brought it here, saying that it was a gift. He's waiting for you to come meet him._

"I see. So you met the insane space pirate. I'm surprised you're not dead yet. Did you give him a bonk on the head for intruding when I was resting?"

She shook her head, smiling. _I think he broke a few walls in the ship, though, I'm afraid. And, perhaps… a few limbs or skulls on the way here. I've also heard that he hurt the pair of doctors who were taking care of you_.

He sighed heavily, and wobbled on his legs before crashing to the ground. The pain was a dull throbbing in his muscles and body, but it was much alleviated and less severe than before. He heard the rustling of cloth and felt the warmth of a haori cover his shoulders and the clank of a katana being sheathed into a belt.

 _Takasugi, don't overdo it, please. You've barely regained your consciousness, haven't you?_

He opened his mouth to reply when she came around and helped him up. He scoffed, but leaned on her for support. "You're not stopping me."

 _I didn't plan to. You would have gone even if I stopped you. You're stubborn that way, Takasugi. Just like Onii-sama's other disciple._

"That bastard would have gotten up even if someone sent him to Hell if he thought that he needed to do something in this world." He muttered bitterly, knowing all too well what Gintoki was like. "I would do the same. Besides, I'm not going to die from something like this. That inhuman bastard wasn't even a proper opponent to clash with."

Supporting each other, the two left the room in search for the said insane space pirate.

Walking steadily down the hall, Takasugi eyed the katana strapped into her kimono from the corner of his eye. "That's Shoyou-sensei's sword. Where did you get it, in this era and country where such weapons were banned? You didn't seem like a law-breaker to me."

She smiled, _I hid it when I found it again, back at Onii-sama's school after it burned down. I knew that no one would go near that place anymore, and I needed a place to remember of when I came back in the area. I picked it back up when the Noragami last clashed with us in Edo._

"And with that sword, you defended the man who swore to get rid of you."

 _And with this sword, you used it to defend me and bring me back._

"I still haven't gotten my thanks."

She paused, and her look was sad when her eyes met his. _Takasugi, I am not oblivious to death, blood and this world, for I have seen much already while living. But it's just that when this particular sword was used blindly to kill, that I was saddened._

"Because I killed with this sword… and you find that to be offending?"

 _I didn't say that. But that was not something for me to thank you for, but to reprimand you about_.

"So that's why you hit my head…" he muttered.

 _I only hit you because you acted recklessly and out of line for me, Takasugi. I don't like seeing you get hurt, even if it is of your own accord_.

Takasugi went quiet at that, as if he was being scolded by a mother. When he spoke up again, it was a question that he posed to change the topic. "But that was sensei's sword… the one that Gintoki always had. Why did-,"

Before he could finish, he realized that they were already at the hall of the ship. The door soon opened, and inside were two familiar looking human faces – well, non-human in kind, more like.

"Oh, back from the dead already, Shinsuke?"

"I'm surprised that you didn't say Hell. Though if you did, I would have said that we were already in it."

"Oh, I know, I know. That was why I said 'from the dead'." Kamui waved his hand, and lounged against the table, putting his chin in his palm and smiling cheerfully at the two who came in. "But now I can properly ask you: is that your lover?"

There was silence in the room at his question. Abuto sighed at his captain's bluntness and apologized, but Kamui stared straight at Takasugi, waiting for an answer.

"This woman and I are nothing like your former master and his whore," was the answer as Takasugi leaned against the wall, warding Shuyo from him, implying that he could stand on his own. "And if you're that curious, then fight her yourself."

"Ohh, you're really giving me permission to? Then that means she's really nothing to you?" Kamui jumped from the table, opening his umbrella and laughing.

"I didn't say anything about her being nothing to me. But I'm not going to say that she is something to me." In spite of Shuyo's protest, Takasugi had sneaked his kiseru and already lit it, inhaling deeply and looking on. "Go on, I'm letting you fight, as long as you don't involve others in your mess and properly clean up afterwards."

Abuto sighed, but walked back against the corner and chose to observe like Takasugi. It would have been useless to try and stop him, anyway. His race was one that fought with their blood and instincts, not their mind and heart.

"Well, how about it, lady? A round with me? Of course, it isn't as if you have a choice, but…" Kamui smiled with his eyes closed.

Shuyo frowned, but quickly went impassive as she took out her sheathed katana, getting into a fighting stance. She didn't want to fight with this opponent who killed, but she had no choice, like he said.

She would get this over with peacefully as possible; without any bloodshed.

* * *

 **Anyone excited for their clash in the next chapter?**

 **Please leave comments and review~**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hallo, everyone~ Sorry for the late update**

 **But I am back with the longest chapter yet... hope you enjoy! ;)**

 **Comments, reviews, criticisms?**

 **Disclaimers: Gintama does not belong to me**

* * *

His Yato blood boiled inside him as his eyes zeroed on his new opponent. His instincts were on fire and sensitive; every fiber of his being was overjoyed for the fight that was to take place, and he licked his lips in suspense, as if he could already taste the blood in his mouth.

It didn't matter whether she was a woman or someone to Takasugi. If she didn't fight him seriously, he would make sure that she would lose a head; and if he didn't fight her seriously... well, he would no sooner than slit his own throat than to do such a cowardly thing.

Their first clash – katana versus an umbrella, caused a giant wind to blow and spread from the vector of the crossed weapons and slashed each others' cheeks, drawing first blood. Licking the trail off, he chuckled madly.

She held well against him for the first fifteen parries and attacks, but refused to draw her sword from its sheathe.

Kamui didn't hold back in every direct hit to her weapon, and always aimed for her limbs and vital points, but she had managed to block them at each time with immaculate precision; whether it was with her own formidable strength or just elegant back steps of her feet.

So she had a keen eye for fighting and for fatal kills, despite not being a killer herself. Interesting.

Kamui kicked, swiping at her head, and she pulled the back of her katana to knock the tip into his chin, cracking his head back so hard that he stared up at the ceiling. But he spun in a 360 degree circle and kicked her in the dead center, pushing her back, but barely, as she used the katana as an anchor to stop her from flying into the air and slamming into the wall behind her.

Lunging at her in the moment when she staggered up from closely defending her ribs from being broken, Kamui pulled back his left arm to knock her out when she jumped to the side, and ran to the other side of the room, suddenly unsheathing her katana and throwing the sword at him.

Thrusting away the sword that flew at his head with his umbrella, Kamui leaped into the air, twirling so that his body would accumulate more speed and become a crashing bullet when he landed to connect with the woman's puny weapon.

He didn't miss, nor did she flee this time – he connected squarely with her katana's scabbard and pushed her back into the wall, making several dents as her head hit it. Both her head and the wall shuddered with a sickening thud as they connected.

Blood trickled down her forehead, down her cheek and to her chin as she stayed in that position and slumped down to the ground.

"What, was that it?" Kamui murmured, parting her bangs and lifting her face to see whether she was breathing. If she was human, she couldn't have survived such a critical hit to her head. Amanto, on the other hand, could have easily lived, even if they had a bump on the back of their head. "Oi, Shinsuke, I think she's dead, despite your boasting about her."

The samurai only exhaled after a long puff. He smirked at Kamui and said, "You're going to get hurt if you underestimate your opponents, Kamui. A tit for tat, they say."

"You-," Kamui was cut off when he looked back at the place where the woman had fallen. He was only able to register a gray blur with red before he was sent flying across the room and crashed into the wall opposite where she had been.

He blinked in surprise as all the air was knocked out of his lungs and a burning started to spread in his upper torso.

How in the world had she moved like that? And why did she have such strength?

When he was about to stand up again, he found that he couldn't, hindered by a pain in his shoulder. Turning his head to it, he found that… well, he was impaled. He was impaled on the very katana that he had flung away previously, which ended up being fixed into position like this. So, it was really his fault.

But before he could quickly pull out from the upright katana lodged in the wall or break the blade so he could get back up, Shuyo was there, raising her scabbard high into the air and bringing it crashing down on his head.

* * *

"Uwah, I never knew that I would just get knocked out. I suppose you really aren't a killer, ne, Shuyo?" even though he had been knocked out after that blow for about 30 minutes, Kamui was still as jocular as ever, smiling at the woman while being bandaged by Abuto on the seat across.

The four had been joined by three others: Bansai, Matako and Takechi in the room to discuss the matters at hand after (or while) Kamui was treated. Shuyo only suffered from light bruises and a wound on her head (miraculously), but otherwise, was better looking than her counterpart.

Takasugi had snickered at Kamui's state after he had been beaten, congratulating Shuyo on how she was officially now labeled as one of the strongest creatures in the universe. She hadn't been too happy about it, and sighed, scolding him this time in written words as she wiped the blood from her face and started to disinfect her own wounds.

"But that was fairly impressive, considering you're human. To think that you actually calculated the exact place as to where that katana would be thrown when he knocked it away… you observed the way this child used his weapon and made it so that he would move in your favor, hm?"

"Abuto, we don't need your commentary, you know. But more than that, I suppose that I'm more impressed by her speed. No one's been able to get by my eye like you did, lady."

"Making an observation doesn't hurt, captain." He replied, finishing the bandage on Kamui's head. "You really need to break that bad habit of yours, or else it's going to get you killed at the worst time ever."

"Whatever. That's not what I came here for, anyway. The fight was just a sweet bonus," Kamui turned to Takasugi. "I found more information on that Noragami bunch, so I thought you might be interested."

"And I assume you want a hand in getting the rewards." Takasugi said, already knowing what Kamui was proposing in return.

"That's why I'm here," Kamui smiled, his gaze turning to that of a hungry beast, for only a moment. "Anyway, if you know already, then I suppose I'll get started. You got my present, no? Well, we came across the same problem with that bunch a couple of days ago, and guess what I found out?"

"Humor us, please." Takasugi said sarcastically.

"Most of their armies – yes, armies – are just plain corpses. To be exact, they're Chimeraic fighters, literally made of both Amanto and humans. Their bodies work and their fighting skills are extraordinary, but they don't possess any conscious. The perfect homunculi army to do someone's dirty work without evoking anyone's mercy or compassion. But those are only their characteristics so far, because they haven't used such creatures till now, apparently."

"You mean that… due to the clashes they've had with us recently, they're collecting the bodies of the slain and patching them up to work as extra soldiers." The eccentric subordinate input.

"To work them beyond death… those Noragami are certainly slave-drivers. Do those guys even get paid?" Matako asked, and Takechi answered, "If you were a corpse, would you care about money?"

"No…"

"Anyhow, their objective – besides getting that woman – is actually pretty interesting." The conversation was back to the alien captain. "Guess what it is?"

 _To revive their master with the soul of someone… or of several others_. Shuyo's response brought silence in the room, obviously surprising everyone else except two people.

"Oh-hoh, so you already knew."

"They were already talking about how she was useful in helping their master come back as a sacrifice. This was the only answer she could have come up with, anyway." This time, Takasugi spoke up, extinguishing his pipe and relighting it with fresh tobacco. His green eye flicked to her, "But I am curious as to why you say _soul_ , Shuyo."

Shuyo's shoulders rose visibly as she took a breath and began to write, _The Noragami… weren't called that decades ago. They went by another name, when I'd come across them_.

"What is that supposed to mean, Yoshida-dono?" Bansai asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He wasn't the only one who felt perplexed. "You've come across them before?"

"Oh goodie, I can already hear a story coming up." Kamui said giddily, getting comfortable by sitting on the table.

 _The reason why I became a wanderer, and why my brother became one as well, was because we were always being hunted by them. Three hundred years ago, they were called the Tengu of the Heavens; a hundred years after that, they called themselves the Shiki; and yet a hundred years after, they used the name Caelum. And it seems that now they go by the name of Noragami. Every time their names changed, the soldiers and leaders within the group changed, so I couldn't tell whether it was them or not. But they've always used the same emblem to label themselves. After I saw this, I was able to ascertain that it was really them._

She took out the cloth Kamui had brought along with the Noragami's head and put it on the table, then opened her notebook to an old entry, showing them a painting of four different emblems that all looked as if they were drawn centuries apart. All the illustrations and the emblem on the cloth matched; a complex black-white and gold design of a crow with two swords, and its claws grabbing the sun and the moon.

 _And their objective has always remained the same. They're collecting the souls of strong warriors from each era and space in time. If they come across the corpse of a warrior, then they collect that as food and feed upon them. They are the only ones capable of doing it – of being able to collect the thoughts and abilities of the person by absorbing their flesh. Absorbing their soul brings back their life essence and empowers the devourer, which is why they prey on only those with strong wills. And it is why they have stayed so fixated on Japan, the country of samurai and of warriors for such a long time_.

At the end of her brushstroke, Shuyo was suddenly slammed into the back of her chair, a hand gripping her throat tightly. She coughed as the fingers pressed into her skin, but did not fight back.

"So, what are you telling me… you're an immortal being? Was sensei the same? Why was it that he died, then? Why are _you_ here?" Takasugi knew that he was sounding petulant and bitter, and was acting irrationally in front of everyone else, but their presences couldn't matter a single bit to him.

"Shinsuke, calm down-gozaru. She won't be able to write anything down like that-gozaru, you know." Bansai said, pulling on Takasugi's arm to pull him back. But even he couldn't hide the surprise and anxiety in his face as he did so. Matako and Takechi had similar miens on their faces, while Kamui was smiling merrily, obviously enjoying the situation.

 _I am properly human. I eat, sleep and need to breathe to live. You can kill me and injure me just like any other human. Yet I suppose you can't call me human. My brother and I… twins, whose souls are linked and form halves of a whole, didn't age after we reached maturity four hundred years ago. We learned that our life essences were connected to each other, but his depended heavily on mine. If I died, then so would he. But if his physical body died, then his soul would come back to merge with my half and I would not be affected physically. We've been living on each other's souls for this long time. I didn't age, and didn't die as long as his soul resided in me and was a part of me. And he would have, too, had.._.

"So that's why the Noragami want you. Your soul, after living hundreds of years already… must be an enormous, cascade of power that would be enough to revive a monster." Kamui said, clapping his hands and humming thoughtfully, "And that master would be… the master of the Noragami – perhaps the former leader of the Tendoshu hundreds of years ago? Hm, hm. That's funny. But now… what's to stop me from killing you just so that they won't get at you and cause another annoying event to occur?"

When he slowly got up with his umbrella in his hand and raised it to fire at her, Shuyo took out her katana and turned it so that she could use the sharp side.

"Oi, oi, captain, I just finished dressing your wounds and you're going to open them again?" the older Yato said irritatingly, but was promptly ignored.

"O-oi, oi, don't you dare lay a hand on that person!" On the other side, Matako raised her own guns at Kamui, but Bansai held her back, holding her arm. "But, senpai-,"

"Surprising that you would stand for her, but unnecessary interference will only worsen this situation, Matako. Stand down-gozaru." The hitokiri had also noticed that Takasugi made no move to defend or do anything for Shuyo. Whether that meant that he trusted Shuyo enough to fend for herself, or he was shocked about this new knowledge about someone he cared for… well, that was uncertain. But if Takasugi thought that it was unnecessary, then they didn't need to stand for Shuyo either.

 _Death is as akin to me as every breath I breathe, but there are things I must do here, and things I must protect. Because this body is not just my own, I cannot let you take my life_.

Kamui laughed out loud, and glanced at Takasugi, who was silent, and brought his gaze back to Shuyo's grey eyes, then withdrew. "No. I'm not going to kill you, because Shinsuke's my first prey. I always save the best for last, so I'll wait until another time to carefully savor you," he jumped from the table and headed toward the door. "But for now, I think I'll return to my ship. Remember that we have your back when the battling comes in, so don't forget to include me when the time comes, Shinsuke."

Bansai stepped outside to lead him out, and Matako and Takechi followed, noticing that the pressure was escalating between the remaining two.

* * *

The main hall had no one left besides the two of them. Silence arose heavily, filling the air besides the thick scent of smoke.

Shuyo stayed silent only because she was waiting for Takasugi to speak up. Waiting for him to say something.

Takasugi was silent because he was lost in thought. This changed nothing, but it changed everything, after all.

"So you're not only sensei's twin sister, but you're also a container for his soul. And you've been alive for more than four hundred years in this wretched world."

 _Takasugi, isn't the word container a bit coarse?_

"So sensei's inside you, in here." He tapped his own heart for emphasis.

 _You can say that. But at the same time, he isn't, because this body is mine._

His voice was quiet, assessing. "So, he's still in this world, though in a different sense."

 _Onii-sama's always been here, though not in the sense that you're speaking of._

"Was that why you knew me and recognized me at first sight? Why you acted like you did; was it due to sensei's presence within you that you treated me like your own disciple and family?"

 _No. I recognized you only because Onii-sama's letters – of a dark haired, stubborn young samurai who struggled to find his place in this world and found it among children he called his friends. And I only treated you as I did because I care for you. Not because of Onii-sama's request to look after each of his remaining students, but because I wanted to_.

Takasugi inhaled, then starting laughing. It wasn't a mad laugh, but a taunting one. "So… in the end, you're also just a woman."

Putting down his pipe, he advanced till he bent over and put his hand next to her head. "Despite what you wear, despite what you do, you're still swayed by such petty emotions. Now you're going to start with your declarations of how you want to stay by my side and follow me to Hell, aren't you? Then you're going to start demanding more attention and then begin to want my tangible companionship."

She stared up at him blankly, confusion, aggravation and hurt washing over her. Was… was he actually suggesting what she thought he was? After hundreds of years, if there was one good thing she learned, it was how to cover her emotions when it was necessary.

"That blonde-haired girl's been allowed to stay despite her annoying verbal connotations because she serves to be useful as a tool. But what are you? You can't kill anyone, and you don't have the lust of a killer. Everywhere I go, I turn into a battlefield, where if you don't fight to kill, you die, and you endanger the ones around you. I can only think of how you can be a burden than an aid to me, Shuyo. No matter how I much I might need you, if you cannot be of help to me, I can only leave you behind. I have no need for a woman like you on this ship."

Rejection. She knew that it was not because he hated her, but because he cared, in his own twisted way. But did he know? How much she hurt? And how that pain came from how much she cared for him, even though she couldn't ever be hurt by him, but by his lack of feeling?

"Of course, unless you want to become instead, my personal whor-,"

She smacked his head. Not hard enough for him to go through the ground again, but he did stumble just a bit, hitting his head on the armrest of the chair she was sitting in.

 _Takasugi, if you're thinking that you can push me and Onii-sama away on an unconscious thought to protect us by scaring me away, or make me disgusted enough to leave you, then you're wrong._

"I don't recall ever saying that I cared for you." He glared at her, rubbing his forehead and wobbling as he got up. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

 _You didn't. But I don't need to know that. All I need to know from you is whether you'll help me to protect this soul of mine. To let me go when the time is right and fulfill Onii-sama's dying wish_.

"What are you-,"

 _Shoyou Onii-sama left you three, knowing that you would suffer but still live and go on in this world. For him, you three were his salvation and his own light. If you three had died in front of him; had Gintoki made the choice to kill you and Katsura instead of Onii-sama, even if Onii-sama survived, his soul would have broken, descending into a despair greater than the one you are in right now._

"Don't say anymore." Takasugi clenched his hand around the chair she sat in. It was unbelievable, unbearable to think that his teacher could have been plunged into darkness when he had served as such a great light to many. He didn't want to think about that.

But… it was also true, that the greater the light, the greater the shadow and darkness it brought with it.

 _I've said it before. My brother and I were hunted down for years by those you call the Noragami. Because of that, because of Shoyou Onii-sama's belief that he had to protect me, he took up the sword. Even after taking away tens of thousands and hundreds of thousands of lives, I wasn't able to stop him from staining his hands with blood every time. And as the years passed, I realized that it was crushing him. He was turning into something I did not know him to be. Every time he had killed, he lost a bit of himself with that dead creature, transforming into a monster._

"No… stop. Stop, Shuyo, don't say anymore-," Takasugi clutched his bandaged shoulder, digging his nails into the wound to occupy himself with something besides what she was saying, despite being unable to tear his eyes away from the pages where the words haunted.

She continued on, ignoring his plea. He needed to know this before she couldn't tell him ever again. _And it was all my fault. For the blame, for creating my half into something else, into a monster, I chose, after three hundred years of our birth into this world, to end it. To set his soul free from mine, before he lost himself completely._

She touched her neck and at the livid marks on her skin. _This is where my scars come from, Takasugi. Just like you wanted to know – I tried to separate from my brother by death. I hadn't realized that it would kill him as well, and he managed to stop me before I could stab myself even further. We both nearly died from the experience, but it did what it was supposed to do._

 _His eyes finally opened, after taking away so much with his hands; he had decided to go his own way and try to give something with those same hands. We each said our farewells, and went on our own paths. He, on the path which he wanted and believed he could make; and I, with my own path which I believed I should take._

 _The first letter he sent me after a hundred years of separation, was his letter about how he'd found his redemption in a child._

 _I visited him in his dojo, curious and dubious, and saw that it was true. He was back to being the Onii-sama I knew so well to be. Kind, gentle and firm. But I still saw that he carried the burden of being what he called a monster. And that was fine, though it saddened me. No one is born into this world and lives without carrying each, a burden of their own, after all. But so was no one called a monster as he was called when they were born into this world._

 _His second letter was early; just another year after the first one. And that, was when he wrote about Shoka Sonjuku, and about you three._

 _Just like you cared for him above everything else, including your own life, Onii-sama cared for you three above all else, including his own life. In that way, you two were similar. While he was in prison, he left a letter – the one I mentioned before – talking about you._

 _Predicting his death, he worried about you the most. Katsura was a child who he'd already known would be able to cast off the hatred and go a path on his own. To Gintoki, he knew that he would be able to do the right thing in due time – for his execution, and after that._

 _But as for you… to you, whom he had taught much, and whom he had learned much from… he couldn't tell what you would do. You were so similar – still are to that silver-haired young one. Persistent, stubborn, not caring about anything, but caring about the most important things. Bending and flexible, fickle and unpredictable, but despite what you said and how you acted, he knew that you were a samurai of your own code. Free and thriving in your beliefs, as well as excessively passionate, bordering on obsessive, almost. A child who grew to be someone he was proud to call his disciple. Even if you did choose this path of destruction and decided to rip down everything in your way._

 _But because of that, he was scared as to whether that would become the start of your own deterioration._

"So he sent you as some kind of guard dog to find me so that I would stop? Even if it was for his sake?" he asked in an angry whisper, his voice filling with acerbity.

 _Onii-sama hated whenever you three acted out of line to defend or protect him by sacrificing your own health and safety. Of course, because of that, you three bonded remarkably, but I know that he didn't want you to act so as for you to lose your life and soul – your own self for a person who was no longer in this world._

 _And you're already lying when you said that it was for him. You said it yourself, no? That you wouldn't stop killing and destroying this world until the black beast inside you stops howling for the lives that took away Onii-sama. You went and decided that on your own. It was not what Shoyou Onii-sama wanted, but what you want. What you thought should be done._

 _And that too, is fine. You are walking on a path different from the others', but it is one that you believe in, and I have no intention of changing that. It is not up to me whether you make the choice or not._

"So you won't stop me whether I kill you, or that lazy-ass perm. You won't care whether this country gets torn apart by these very hands?"

Her hand trembled lightly as she wrote, _If that is what you plan to do. Even if you end up continuing to pursue the path to revenge that hurts you the most, I have no intention of_ —

"Bullshit. Your face says it all, Shuyo." Despite his harsh words, his touch was gentle when he touched the tears falling down her face. "I said I hated rain previously. Rain stains and never stops, covering everything. And it's unpleasant to the touch. So stop crying."

She raised a hand and leaned into his fingers, and just stayed, holding onto them gently until the water stopped streaming from her eyes. This was a given. Her reaction was a given. Death had haunted her for years on end, and as she thought that she wouldn't lose anyone else anymore, here she was, saying that she would accept the fate that she knew would be his, since it was his choice.

"Sensei placed a heavy burden on you, too, hm. Just like that idiot's pointless duty. He thought that he had to go ahead and save us just because he believed that he was doing the right thing. What kind of self-righteousness is that." Takasugi looked down at the woman who wept silently while grasping his hands against her wet face. She held onto him as lightly as she could, as if he was the one who could break at any time.

In that moment, Takasugi couldn't see his sensei in her anymore. All he saw was a woman who was shedding tears for a person that did not exist inside him.

"I've never seen such an old hag cry so much. Since you're supposed to be centuries older than all of us, why not show some self-restraint?"

She finally smiled at that, and looked up at him. Raising a fist, she smacked his head. This time, it was right into the ground, and one that shook the bottom of the ship with small tremors.

 _Takasugi, it is rude to call a woman who is capable of kicking you into the next week and lecture you for a solid day an old hag – not for the woman's sake, but for your own sake_. _I suppose my brother didn't teach you that_.

* * *

 **Well, well... that's one more step to their relationship, hm?**

 **Reviews, comments, please?**

 **See y'all next time^^**


	11. Chapter 11

**New chapter up! Hope you like it, my dear readers ;)**

 **Feel free to review, etc...**

 **Disclaimers: Gintama. Not. Mine.**

* * *

Shuyo exhaled softly, enjoying the situation and also uncomfortable by it. She couldn't move an inch from the arms wrapped around her for fear of her injuring him further, and she also didn't want to move because it was rather nice to snuggle up against a person like this. It had been a long time since she slept like this, embraced by someone while asleep, after all. Her brother used to often hold her when she slept as a child, reading as he did so, and she always enjoyed the warmth and direct presence of her twin against her skin.

But… well, this was different.

After their conversation in the main hall and her scolding Takasugi, she had slumped in her seat, tired from the lack of sleep and from all the expended energy she spent from fighting Kamui. What happened next was a rather blurred, unclear chain of events. She didn't remember exactly what did go on, but when she was able to properly think, she realized that she was in a futon.

With him.

He was sleeping soundly, snuggled up against her back and holding her waist, his chin touching the top of her head. She could feel his breath at her hair, which rustled the strands in a comforting rhythm, and his steady heartbeat against the back of her kimono.

She was glad that he was sleeping at the moment. With him in such a close proximity, if he was awake, he would have felt the thumping of her own heart beating faster than his steady one – thumping quickly, happily, excitedly. And she didn't need him to know what she felt about him to the full extent.

No. It was enough for him to know that she cared for him. He didn't need any chains holding him down when the time came.

Shuyo started to gently shift around, prying her fingers into his so that he loosed his hold on her, but it didn't work. His grip was too strong, despite him being currently comatose for her to move him completely. But she did manage, after some hard work, to turn around so she was facing him directly inside the futon.

He looked so calm. With his eye closed and the bandage around his left eye gone, his dark bangs fell into his face in a gentle frame, emphasizing his young appearance. If only he could look so calm when he was awake. If only his burden could be somehow lightened while he continued to live… if only, he could smile like he did ten years ago.

With that thought, Shuyo brought her arms around to bring his head to her chest so that she could keep him against her.

Exhaling with a sigh, Takasugi's mouth parted as he snuggled into her embrace and stayed there, apparently liking that she was his pillow. She smiled, patting his head and smoothing down the strands that stood up from as a bed-head, relishing the softness of his hair and breathing in the scent of rich smoke clinging to it from all the prior smoking.

If only she could protect him like this and keep him in her arms forever.

 _But that's never going to happen, is it._

"No, it isn't."

Her grip tightened protectively around the sleeping person as a voice that crawled across her neck and raised her hairs appeared.

"No, no. You don't have to get up to greet me, Shuyo. Wouldn't want to wake that child, no?" Shuyo did not shiver when ice cold fingers trailed across her shoulder to come and rest at the crown of her head, then spread out so it could tangle in her grey, light-brown hair. The touches were soft and caressing like that of a lover, but Shuyo had stiffened as if a poisonous, sordid serpent was crawling up her body.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it? The last time I saw you, it was about two hundred years ago. Time does fly, doesn't it? Imagine my surprise, when I saw you in person with this crew a couple weeks ago." The voice slithered, switching around so that it seemed like the speaker was in front of her face, then above her head, then from far away.

"I hadn't believed that it was really you when Kuso and the others spoke of you when they got back from their first encounter of our new potential prey. But… I see you've found yourself a… companion. Takasugi, was it? An adorable little samurai, honestly."

 _Don't touch him_. Her grey glare was filled with wariness and hatred at the unwanted intruder. She knew all too well what the speaker was capable of, especially if he was serious.

"Oh, touchy when it comes to him? Well, I don't blame you. He's very… handsome." The voice spat out that last word, as if he was having trouble rolling it out on his tongue. "And injured from last time. Kuso did quite a job on him, after all. And not to mention, that soul of his… delicious perhaps, enough to die for? But I wonder…" Shuyo's eyes widened when the speaker's lips touched her ear and whispered, "… will you be able to _protect_ this one as well? Like you did for your brother?"

Pain stabbed into her when he mentioned her brother and her mistake from a century ago. It was still an old wound that hadn't closed completely, and having another person dig into that wound was severe.

The mocking voice continued, "Will _you_ be able to protect this child? Hm?"

She bit her lip, refusing to answer and leaving her mind blank.

"Hm. How about I offer you a deal, Shuyo? You need only to give yourself up in exchange for this man's life and his soul. You know you're worth more than this man when it comes to… the number of souls and in strength, so I suppose that's a fair deal, no? You already know, don't you? You, nor anyone in this world… are not enough to stop us. I was already able to find you here and came right in without a single problem... so what makes you think that you can ensure the safety of anyone? You've only been alive… because I've left you to be alive during this time, Shuyo. You and this child, and everyone else-,"

The voice was interrupted with an oomph, as the speaker was thrown across the room and into the air. Swiftly, the red figure twisted in the air, twirling before it stopped and landed elegantly on the tatami floor.

Shuyo lowered her left hand, glaring sharply at the Noragami who stood straight back up, brushing off his long red cloak and the red kimono under it.

"That was rude. To interrupt while I was still talking by throwing me across the room?" the voice taunted.

 _Wearing shoes while on the tatami is a rude thing to do_. _And so is threatening someone while they are resting. If you wanted to come and talk to me, you should have done it while I was properly up and alone. Do not think that because this child is by my side at this time that I would not raise a hand at all…Yamyra_.

"True…if you were serious, I might be dead by now. But still, you were only able to push me back, no, Shuyo? You will never be able to end me, nor kill me with those hands of yours. No, no. You dealt with that problem yourself when you practically chained yourself down a hundred years ago with that… _promise_ of yours."

 _I don't make promises I don't keep_.

"Hm, hm. But there are always exceptions. For instance, if I try to kill that child instead of you right now, you would probably end up picking up that sword. You samurai are always like that. Trying to protect everything or anyone that the end of your sword can reach… when will you realize that you can't save everyone?"

Shuyo was silent.

"I thought so. That's why I came up with that proposal… Shuyo. This way, no one will have to get hurt, and you would be able to… fulfill your own personal wish, no? You would end up protecting this child, and you won't have to kill anyone in order to do so. Think on it, Shuyo. The next time we meet, I hope it'll be… of a favorable answer."

Quiet filled the room besides the faint breathing of a sleeping person, and the rushed breaths of a person who shook with uncontrolled fear and incredulity.

* * *

The night air was filled with the smells of various foods and sparkling lights of paper lanterns hanging in stalls, as well as the shouts and bus chattering of people. It was a place he knew of all too well.

Staring down at the woman who wore a man's black kimono and a white haori and smiling brightly as she looked over the festival masks, the most wanted criminal within the extreme Joi rebels in all of Japan muttered through his oni mask, "What the hell are we all doing here?"

 _I thought we could all need a change of pace_.

"So you thought that you could bring us here on a certain whim, and just when you're the most in danger here in Edo-gozaru." Said Bansai, who had also been dragged along to get changed into a yukata and get rid of his shades and headphones in favor for a pale Noh mask. His shamisen was still strapped his back, even though he was still twitching uncomfortably, as if he couldn't get used to the foreign clothes and lack of his comfort items.

"That woman thinks she can do whatever she wants, but that's just like her usual doing." Matako put in, eyeing the older woman's back with distaste, though it was clear that she had somewhat warmed up to her. She was also wearing a colorful yukata, patterned with Koi fish and long furisode sleeves, but a short skirt that freed her legs for movement. Her blonde hair was up in an elaborate hairdo with a hyacinth kanzashi that Shuyo had helped her with.

"Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha. Here you go, young one," Takechi, who was in his usual samurai garb but without his weapon, was already blending in with the children (most of whom were girls) and handing out various kinds of candy that he'd already bought. "Don't fight, young ladies."

Turning on him, Matako and Bansai both knocked him to the ground and shooed away the children, saying, "Please stay away from this pervert, children. You're going to be in a much scarier situation if you let him pamper you guys like this, you know!"

"That's enough, you two! I was just being the children loving feminist I am, and helping those small blossoms to these delicious sweets-,"

"That's why you're called a lolicon, senpai. Gosh, please don't try and sell us out already when we just arrived."

"Well, if that's our group, then Takasugi-dono and Yoshida-dono are already gone." He pointed out to the lack of a Takasugi and a Shuyo near them. In fact, they couldn't see any trace of them at all in the crowd.

The two turned around and Matako yelled out in frustration and turned on the older samurai with a glare. Bansai sighed, and strapping his shamisen onto his back, tugged along the young girl to the nearest food stall, leaving behind the other samurai on his own.

"One takoyaki box, to-go-gozaru." He ordered, and the vendor happily handed him the food as he received the money.

"Bansai-senpai, what are you-,"

"This is a festival Yoshida-dono brought us to. It would be a waste if we don't spend good use of it-gozaru," he prompted, holding up a toothpick and stabbing into the steaming ball, then popping it into his mouth. Matako frowned, but picked up the dispensable utensil and jabbed into the flesh of the takoyaki. She looked at it distastefully and put it back down, turning her face and pouting openly. "I don't like takoyaki."

Bansai took the box of takoyaki away from her and nibbled on his own, murmuring, "Well, well, we might as well take advantage of this time… the calm before the storm-gozaru. So, which one do you prefer – the mitarashi dango, or the-"

"Ringo-ame."

* * *

"You're actually having fun with this."

Shuyo didn't pay him any mind, happily knocking out one prize after the other and filling his arms with the stuffed animal prizes, whilst surrounded by children who looked at the cute prizes with envy. They didn't dare approach Takasugi directly because of his mask, and his own demeanor (which practically oozed a killer's bloodlust) that warned them they would be in trouble if they did get close.

On the other hand, because of her silent and kind composure, the children continued to crowd Shuyo at the counter, pulling on her haori and encouraging her to get which prize or not. She too, had an oni mask – a Hannya mask clasped to the side of her face so everyone could see her visage, though she had a more realistically persuasive face of a person who was enjoying the festival, unlike a certain someone.

He didn't know what he was thinking when she brought him off the ship and into Edo. One moment, he was in his futon, and the next she was dressing him in a festive, butterfly patterned yukata of gold and black, and was holding his hand and escorting him to this festival.

He had been sleeping rather well – the first good nap in a long time – when she'd fixed up everything, ordering two groups to go along with them and appreciate the event with her.

She'd also forced Bansai and Matako to get changed and accompany them. Takechi was an afterthought.

While Takasugi wasn't exactly unappreciative of festivals, he didn't understand her sudden whim to come to Edo all the way for a _festival_ , of all places. It was… slightly unnerving, since he couldn't always read her, though she seemed like an open book to him. She was… open, friendly and kind. But she kept many things to herself, only revealing them when _she_ felt the time was right. At the very least, it was better than his sensei, who kept everything to himself to the very end, showing only the parts of himself that he felt was necessary.

His right eye suddenly saw light as his mask was pushed to one side and a sticky, hot mess of something was gently nudged into his mouth. Unconsciously chewing it, he found that it was a freshly made stick of dango.

Grey eyes stared up at him and smiled as he took the dango stick from her while trying to balance out the prizes so that they wouldn't fall and started chewing, muttering, "This isn't savory at all."

She laughed at him silently as she started taking the prizes out of his arms one at a time and handed them to the children who were surrounding the two. They scurried off with their gifts with bright smiles and large bows to Shuyo, saying goodbye.

Watching her with her brightly lit smile that illuminated her tranquil eyes which watched the backs of those small children going further off to join their families, Takasugi's gaze softened with fondness. He'd long accepted that Shuyo was not Shoyou, but a person of her own, but it was only now after some reluctance that he was realizing that she was… important. In a very different way than before.

"Was that what you wanted to see, in the end?" he asked, and she smiled, shrugging, and chewing on her own dango. Despite bringing him along, she didn't force him to open his wallet or participate; it seemed that it was enough for her for him to just be around as a companion. It was a handful, but he didn't mind so much.

But if there was one thing that did irk him, she was prohibiting him from walking off, or from smoking his kiseru in public.

"Oi, Shu-," he stopped as she suddenly yanked his arm and dragged him to a goldfish scooping booth. She poked at him, nudging him forward. Was she trying to make him do this now…?

"I refuse. We won't even have any use for such-," he was met with a very sad, disappointed face. He was sick of her crying. And he couldn't refuse her when she was making that expression with Shoyou-sensei's face. Sighing, he held up a hand and waved her forward. "Do as you like."

She clapped, and bent over, handing the money over to the vendor, who accepted the coins with both hands and exchanged it for the scoopers.

The water was full of colorful goldfish, and the two were silent for a whole minute, just staring down into the liquid brimming with streaks of white, orange and yellow. They stood so still that people walking by whispered about and stared at the frozen couple.

"Oi, customers, aren't you going to-," the vendor was answered with a large splash and he stared with shock (along with several other onlookers) at the empty goldfish pool.

"A mere child's game. This wasn't even worth my time." Takasugi muttered, glancing over at Shuyo's own huge heap of goldfish piled on the small bowl.

 _Ara, Taka-chin, are you pouting because you caught less goldfish than mine_? She teased in her writing, smiling up at him.

"Don't be ridiculous. I got exactly 96 here. There's no way I could be-," he stopped, seeing the equally, if not a little taller, pile of wriggling fish in her bowl.

 _My count is 100, exactly_. He stared at her smugly smiling face through the mask with a glare.

"You're _ridiculous_." He sounded exasperated, and Shuyo only laughed with silent lips.

 _And I suppose you want another round, Taka-chin?_

"And I suppose that's supposed to be my alibi right now?"

 _Would you prefer Shin-tan?_

"I don't prefer either."

 _Then Taka-chin it is._

"What's with that, honestly. Then what are you - Yo-chan?"

 _If you want to call me that, then I don't mind._

"You'd even let me call you a shriveled up bakaneko*. That sort of voluntary will is what makes it boring, Shuyo."

 _Then, in our next round, shall we wager our names_? _Though, I don't believe that you'll like being called Taka-chin in front of the others… right?_

Now, _that_ was going to be annoying. It was enough that in the past he faced such teasing peers and a teacher who loved to dote on his students by playing jokes on them from time to time– to have this woman add to that and possibly begin the road to his humiliation by a mere name was going to be unbearable.

Flipping the scooper in a full 360 degree spin in his right hand, Takasugi said, "Bring it on."

"A-ano… sirs?" the man in charge hesitantly interrupted, sweating slightly. "I'm very sorry, but since you two took all what's left of tonight's goldfish, there won't be a second round, I'm afraid… so, if you would… move on now, I'm going to start shutting this booth down…" he concluded with a sob.

None of them noticed two bright red eyes watching from behind the donuts booth, and the beeping of a cellphone.

* * *

 **I've always wanted to write a matsuri scene... cute, wasn't it?/^w^/**

 ***A bakaneko is a Japanese cat monster**

 **Guess which character it was in the last scene~**

 **Soredewa, sugi no hanashi ni aimashyo, watashi no taisetsuna minna-san^^**


	12. Chapter 12

**Yeah... the character's appearance is yet to come... but it should be pretty obvious by now as to who it is ;)**

 **Thank you to Xliaf27-san, ShiroyaMakuro-san, and to guest-san who read and reviewed my last chapter! (I agree very much with your opinion about Takasugi, guest-san - I think so too^^)**

 **Anyhow, enjoy!**

 **Disclaimers: Gintama. Not. Mine.**

* * *

"What the hell are they doing in the middle of a festival right now?"

"Hm, hard to say, with that bunch. Humans, that is. Why, Jorugumo, you want to go and join them?" Shizuko remarked, leaning on the tree's branch and looking down at the festive lights stretching from the bottom of the stairs to the top of the small temple.

"Perhaps the wench thought that she could evade our arrival by hiding within so many people. A pity, though. She's always poking out like a sore thumb."

"That's only because you're a plain stickler for souls like hers, Shizuko. Your abilities have over-expanded, and now they're practically eating at you and making you super sensitive. That's what it means being a former human." Jorugumo snorted, assessing his two katanas in the flickering lamp lights from below when a broken branch was hurled at his head.

Shizuko glared at her comrade with black eyes, "Back off, bastard. Without me, you wouldn't have even known that that woman was the right one."

"Yeah, yeah." He waved her off, leaning back into his seat in the branch while Matsuiro looked up at his comrade with deep hazel-gold eyes. "Has Yamyra contacted you yet?"

"No, not yet." The main leaders of the Noragami were all gathered together near the closest forest after they had information from their intel that Shuyo and the other respective high-ranking officers of the Kiheitai were… stepping out this night.

Since they had been in contact with the Harusame's 7th fleet a week ago, the two groups had been stuck together for some time, making it hard for the Noragami to come into direct contact with the Kiheitai and overrun them. Even if it was the Noragami, it was clear that they didn't want any more annoying interferences in the way of getting to their goal whilst sacrificing their own soldiers at the maximum.

"So everything ends tonight." Shizuko murmured to herself, continuing to stare at the woman enjoying her sticks of dango and cheerfully feeding them to her companion.

She both pitied and envied her – that woman who was able to relish so much in life, and who could live forever, was going to be a part of something she could never be a part of. But that meant that she was going to die... and everyone with her, around her and related to her would die.

"Too bad Kuso couldn't be here—uumph!" Matsuiro and Shizuko both turned quickly, drawing their weapons at the shadow that had crept behind and held Jorugumo by the throat, dangling him over the tree's branches.

"Too bad _who_ couldn't be here? What, you're dissing me even when my corpse hasn't rotten out… you have guts, bastards."

"That's… impossible! You-," Jorugumo choked out, and was tossed onto the lower branch below, his bones crunching at the impact. Shizuko and Matsuiro quickly jumped down to support their comrade back up, looking up at their old leader with fearful eyes.

Their once dead leader laughed, licking off blood from his fingers as he glared down at the three Noragami through his red kitsune mask, "You've spent that much time with him, and still you doubt his greatness. With master, nothing is impossible."

Despite his voice and his stature remaining the same, his appearance and his weapons had changed drastically. Instead of his usual shinobi and kimono-outer wear, he was donning the outfit of a dead person – dressed in a blinding white kimono and haori; and wielding two large silver dao blades in his hands that shone with a low, black light.

He continued, "But we have another problem on our hands, now. That woman isn't going to be enough. We have to collect the souls of two more of them… the first being…"

* * *

 _That was fun, wasn't it, Takasugi?_ Shuyo glanced over at the young man, who had taken off his oni mask and was leaning against the wooden pole of the temple entrance and gazed at the lights at the bottom of the steps. People still swarmed in and out between the stalls, busy having their own fun. No one bothered to come up the steps to the shrine where Shuyo and Takasugi were at. Behind the two was piled a small mound, consisting of prizes and foods, either half eaten or yet untouched.

Takasugi, who had a rather peaceful expression on his face, looked back at the woman who had called out to him. He didn't smile, nor did he answer, but the look in his eyes was enough of a reply for her. She nodded, smiling and offered an open yakult, which he took tacitly.

Sipping it, Takasugi continued to look over at the festival going in below, contemplating his current self.

At the festival, in the midst of playing with her and participating in several old childish games brought back several memories, making him start at how for an instance, he had forgotten about his unending thirst for destruction and was playing like a normal man at a festival with a normal woman.

Being with her made him feel as if he had forgotten all his past hatred and was living only in the present. Normally and as mundanely as he could and was allowed.

Being by her side had made him forget, even if it was for a while, his state of being a Joi rebel, a leader of the Kiheitai, and that he didn't have to run or hide from anyone or anything.

Being next to this woman… felt… right.

"You brought me out here for this." Takasugi murmured, fingering the mask lying beside him. "Shoyou-sensei was always bringing us to places like this for fun, too. Saying that time was a precious, limited thing, and we should use it to the fullest when we could."

 _"_ _Damnit it, I missed! Oi, Zura, it's your fault, what am I going to do now?!"_

 _"_ _It's not Zura, it's Katsura! And that's called karma, Gintoki. My hand just slipped, that's all." The young prodigy answered, crossing his arms and smirking at his friend. In front of them both were what remained of their candy pictures… shattered beyond repair._

 _"_ _That's why it's called a child's game, you idiots." Takasugi grinned, chewing on dango next to his teacher, who was fervently concentrating on his own candy picture. It was almost complete, until a toothpick suddenly flew from somewhere and smashed the middle of it, crushing it into millions of pieces that could never be put back together again…_

 _Silence filled the air, and their teacher raised his face very slowly to his students, tears in his glaring eyes. The triad gulped, sweat-dropping and walking backwards with stumbling limbs._

 _"_ _S-sensei, th-that was Gintoki! He-,"_

 _"_ _The hell I did! Takasugi, you bumped into me and I accidentally-,"_

 _"_ _What are you saying, you silver-permed brat? I only – I was only walking past when Katsura tripped me-,"_

 _Shoyou raised a wavering fist, but his face was far from its usual angelic one. The three all braced for the impending punch, when the vendor suddenly cried out, "Oi, oi, mister! You're pretty good at this, how did you-?"_

 _The young boys all looked at the table, their eyes widening at the finished candy pictures. On closer inspection, they were actually the leftover pieces the three of them had broke, all put back together in the shape they each chose._

 _All that Shoyou was holding up was a finished 3-D piece of a small sakura blossom._

 _"_ _Oi, Shoyou, that's cheating! You can't make that just like that!"_

 _"_ _Well, well, Gintoki. I've had a lot of practice. You're a hundred years too early to be competing with me," Shoyou paid the vendor, who accepted the money with a smiling face and turned back to his students. "But you're also a hundred years too early to think that you can accomplish something by taking away someone's hard work!"_

 _And then they were finally scolded with the usual hard fists._

 _Holding their newly made bumps on their heads, the three ended up at the stairs at the bottom of the shrine where the festival was being held, each nibbling on the sugar snacks that Shoyou touched up on; in their arms several other sweets and snacks, as well as matsuri masks._

 _"_ _But you didn't throw away those pieces and start over, sensei. Was it because you were confident that you could make them again like this?" Katsura asked, pulling the sugar candy from his mouth and staring down at it._

 _"_ _No, it wasn't, Kotarou. Sometimes, in life, there are things that you can't ever start over anew with. All I did was learn to cope with that and try to create something with what I already had… or recovering something to the best extent before I had broken it. And even then, if it was too late, I would try to remember so I would never make the same mistake again."_

 _Takasugi and Katsura laughed at their teacher, commenting that Shoyou couldn't ever break something, being the soft-hearted person he was, unless it was Gintoki's head._

 _He only smiled back at their students' behavior, but did not reply in the way they thought he would. "Gintoki, Shinsuke, Kotarou, what do you think it means to live?"_

 _Chomping on his candy, Gintoki spoke through sticky lips, "Live?"_

 _"_ _Not to be surviving, but truly living. Even if it is for a short moment, to be shining with all the might of its short life. Just like the fireworks, or the blossoms of a sakura tree."_

 _"_ _Well, if it was me, I'd rather be living this life for the rest of my life with you, sensei, instead of living like what you're talking about. This way's more interesting than being a kind of samurai that gets his limbs and body chained down by someone we don't owe our lives to."_

 _"_ _I second that." Takasugi also grinned up at his teacher, though Gintoki remained silent. He was the only one who hadn't responded as such, but that wasn't the reason why his eyes had clouded over._

 _Shoyou gently massaged Gintoki's head, smiling down at him. "Surely you're not unfamiliar with the term either, Gintoki. Haven't you been living as best you could when you found me that day?"_

 _After pausing for a beat of a moment, Gintoki grinned like an imp back up at his teacher. "That's for sure."_

Shuyo smiled, also remembering something.

 _It was back during the time when she still had her voice, and back before her brother had turned so twisted._

 _The two who had come across the festival going on in Kyoto on their journey – no, their fleeing – had been fascinated by the enormous beatitude of the lights and the jocular sound of people and of bells. It was the first time they had come across such a festival up close before._

 _"_ _Onii-sama, what's that?" Shuyo tugged impatiently on her brother's haori, pointing to the pool of goldfish, where people were busy trying to scoop them up with the paper scoopers and laughing out loud when each popped. She then pointed to the booth where people were busy watching an entertainer perform with sugar candy, making it into an immaculate lily blossom. "Why are they doing that? Is it a game? Can we try?"_

 _Pulling out the currency he'd stored up from his sleeve pocket, Shoyou smiled at his sister, and grabbing her hand, said, "'One who chases after two hares won't catch even one'*, Shuyo. We'll just have to try each one, shall we?"_

 _"_ _Welcome, welcome!" the vendor greeted them with a smile, happily advertising his game and explaining how it went. After Shoyou had handed the coins to him, the man exchanged the currency with two scoopers._

 _Shuyo picked the red one, while Shoyou chose the yellow one. Staring down into the water, Shuyo smiled at how pretty the fish were. Colors ranged from red to orange, yellow to white, and each one was drastically different from each other in shape and pattern._

 _"_ _They're so pretty, Onii-sama. We really have to touch them with these? What if they get hurt?"_

 _"_ _I don't think paper scoopers are going to hurt them, Shuyo. This is different than cutting them with a-,"_

 _She shut her brother up as she plunged the scooper into the water and smacked out a flopping fish into his face, also drenching him. "… I'm sorry, Onii-sama. But you talked too much, and we have a time limit."_

 _Catching the falling fish into his wet scooper, Shoyou smiled serenely at his twin. "… I see. Then we should get-," he plunged his hand into the water and splashed Shuyo as he scooped three goldfish out of their home and into her face. "—started."_

 _Shuyo wiped her bangs, shaking out the water as she felt one fish slip down the neck of her kimono and caught the remaining two and slid them into the bowl she had. "Onii-sama, I understand that it's an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a goldfish for a goldfish. But did you have to do that?"_

 _Putting the scooper and bowl down and reaching into his sister's kimono, Shoyou deftly pulled out the madly flapping goldfish by its tail and smiled, serenely as before. "Well, now. But that's over with, so shall we get stared for real now?"_

 _She mirrored her brother's smile and held up her scooper. "I'm afraid that it's over, Onii-sama." She gestured to his own popped scooper, beginning to laugh out loud. Looking down rather dismally at what remained of his scooper and the three goldfish in his bowl, Shoyou shrugged, then laughed along with her, saying that she cheated._

 _Shuyo liked to think that Shoyou might've regretted the event, somewhat, because they ended up emptying his wallet and made more problems in the area than they thought in the beginning. The twins learned with enthusiasm and their comprehension of the games was very fast, so they ended up winning at every chance they were given. As a result, they drew (too) much attention to themselves and ran from the festival with their loot, hotly pursued by frustrated and bankrupt booth vendors and shop owners._

 _But the best part of the end was when they saw the fireworks up close, hidden in the crowd and indistinguishable from each other in their wonder at the short-lived flowers in the sky._

 _Blue, red, sparkling gold and yellow, white, pink and purple all merged into wonderful collaborations of shapes and colors in the dark canvas. Like creating a dazzling, lit-up painting. It was one of the many precious memories she'd made with her twin, and one of the most beautiful things she'd seen in her lifetime._

 _The next time they came across a festival, they made sure to wear masks if they wanted to play, lest they be found out for their knack to play, as were able to switch around with ease._

 _But perhaps it was because her brother had started to change, that her attitude towards being amongst peoples in such a place started to become suffocating. The fireworks she saw with him no longer seemed beautiful, but sad._

 _It was probably after the 150_ _th_ _festival that she'd decided never to go back there with her brother nor let people get hurt by being swept up in their struggles. And it was probably after the 151_ _st_ _one that Shuyo decided that it was going to be the last one she went to._

In the present, the presence of another person and the burden she no longer felt within her heart made the occasion much more special. Tonight was her return to a part of the world she had left behind a long time ago.

She wrote, _I used to be the one who always dragged him along to festivals like this, making him dress up and wear masks… eat till my stomach couldn't handle all the food… he always scolded me for that. We would always play games until the vendors mostly shut down or shooed us away and even then, we'd still go at it. We were the best rivals at festivals like this. You couldn't even come close to his level, though_.

"I suppose that was a compliment, you monstrous woman." He snorted back, and downed his Yakult, putting it to the side.

Shuyo also unwound the binding of the mask and lowered it from her face, putting it next to Takasugi's. Two monstrous masks next to each other made quite the pair. Standing, she brushed her kimono of the dust that had gathered from the ground and held out her notebook to him, _I'll be back soon. There is something I forgot to do._

"I'm not your babysitter." He didn't look at her as she turned to leave. All he heard was the sound of her sandals growing smaller and smaller as she walked away.

As soon as he no longer felt her presence next to him, Takasugi turned around and rummaging through the pile, plucked out a small 3-D sakura flower, put together immaculately from broken candy fragments. It was tiny, but the details were meticulous and painstakingly small. This one had also been formed within the limit of a minute, and recreated from a broken piece that a child had touched on accident. But it wasn't the same one his sensei had given to them from before.

He popped it into his mouth an started swirling his tongue around it, letting the sugary substance dissolve within seconds and savored the taste, reveling in the sweetness spreading along his taste buds. He thought of that sweetness, and of the person who had brought it back into his life, along with the bittersweet emotions of a living person, and all the fonder memories that came with it.

The person who had been next to him was a different person from the one he'd once considered his everything.

She was… more than that.

* * *

Shuyo was alone when she left the small offering in front of the shrine. The plate held small donut holes piled in a fairly tall mound, and next to it, was a sealed envelope she had taken from her kimono's pocket.

The moon was now a small sliver in the sky, but still shining brightly, brilliantly next to the stars. It was such a peaceful night. Looking up at the dark atmosphere and breathing in the fresh, crisp air, Shuyo breathed out, feeling calmer and happier than she was when she wandered alone for years. Wandering because she hadn't a place to stay, and also because she could not make a place for herself like her brother had.

While she did say that the reason she became a wanderer was because she was being hunted, there was a deeper reason to her being alone for the first hundred years after she separated from her brother.

It was fear. Fear that she would hurt someone precious to her again and ultimately scar their souls. That fear was why she had stayed away and kept from making deep bonds with another person. And that fear was why Shuyo had decided to stay away from her brother for decades. For two centuries.

Her brother had once called her beautiful and brave for being able to sacrifice herself for someone she loved; for a bloodstained, sinful person like him – but she could admit that part of it came from her fear that if she didn't do anything, it would be her fault that he would walk the Earth for the rest of his immortal life as a wraith of the person he once was.

The guilt then had blinded her from seeing clearly that her efforts to do what was right would've still hurt her beloved half. But either way, the ignorance of both the Yoshida twins about their life-essence bond was what had changed that and brought her back to life, saving them both from perpetual death.

And despite being spared from that loss, that fear still sometimes rooted her to the ground – of not being able to protect and nourish a single soul, a separate, individual being she would come to care for. That had made her waver from forming strong bonds with others. She was afraid of her own longevity, and the haunting past of a mistake that would have taken away everything.

That had created a stiff, tall wall hundreds of years old within her heart. A wall that had started to crumble inside her when her brother's soul reunited with her own a decade ago. When she felt the rest of his life spent away from her come rushing inside along with the memories, the emotions and thoughts, merging with her own yet starkly different from her own.

When she felt his soft encouragement and forgiveness, urging her on to _live_ , had those walls started to crack. Meeting Takasugi was the final factor that was bringing down those barriers.

And in a matter of months since she had met the Kiheitai, forming new bonds with new people and opening herself – now, she had found something – someone – worth giving her life to, whilst being able to protect the promise she'd made. Just like her brother had found his own light in those three children by teaching them, learning from them and living alongside them, watching them grow up for a while, forming new bonds with them and loving them to the extent of being able to sacrifice himself for them; she had found her own warmth in this world. It was small, and sometimes fickle and wavering, but it was genuinely glowing and passionately bright. It was her own warmth that she had discovered on a cold, lonely path.

And she no longer had to wander to seek that warmth. But if it was truly needed – if she had to die in order to protect that, then she would do so; gladly.

And that was enough.

A foreign shadow, whose presence had been hidden from her as she stood thinking appeared from behind her. It did not utter a sound to proclaim its arrival, nor breathe even a bit to indicate that it was a living thing.

She did not turn around to know that it was the person she had been waiting for. The offering in front of the shrine was enough of a bait, after all.

She opened her notebook and wrote something, then gently ripping it out, left it on top of the doughnut holes and walked away, not bothering to know who it had been behind her, and whether it would fulfill the given task.

It had been done so many times before; and it never failed her.

* * *

 ***"One who chases after two hares won't..." basically means trying to do both things at once will make you fail in both. So in this context, I used it in a way so that it means, 'instead of observing and making pointless questions, experiencing it directly is better'. Not sure if that makes much sense with the actual meaning, but, yeah.**

 **So, then everything goes amok in the next chapter... it's going to be a lot of fun... fufufufufu. Look forward to it!**

 **Ah, I almost forgot to mention - I've been preparing for my college applications (yes, I'm a student^-^) which really has me by the neck here, so the updates might be a little... slower. Maybe around two to three weeks? Just like it was with this chapter. I'll still be updating, but it might take longer than usual. Just so you guys know... so please be patient/o/**

 **See you guys in the next chapter!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello everyone! I'm posting this chapter b/c it was time for a break from school stuff... heheh...**

 **Hope you enjoy^^**

 **Disclaimers: Gintama is not mine**

* * *

"Shinsuke. What are you doing here all alone? What about Yoshida-dono?" Bansai sat down next to the man who stared out silently into the lights, or perhaps for a person down below. After separating from Matako, who had gone off somewhere on her own, he'd sighted his leader sitting alone on the top of the stairs to the entrance of the shrine.

Takasugi didn't answer, only pointing to the food behind them and then at the place right next to him, where the masks lay together. At his silent pointing, Bansai took the advice and touched the place and nibbled on the food, realizing that it was stone cold. It had been a long time since Shuyo had left, wherever she had gone.

"Shinsuke, did it not occur to you that she… has left? For good, I mean-gozaru." He prompted, taking off his own mask and slipping on his shades and his headphones. They clashed with the green and yellow bamboo patterned yukata he had on, but he wasn't one to care.

The silence hung heavily in the air for several minutes, and still Bansai waited.

"I'd forgotten to tell you all… about that woman." Takasugi's answer was low and filled with venom.

Bansai stared at him in surprise. The way he said that – it wasn't uncommon of him to sound so, but in this particular situation it didn't make sense, "Hm?"

Takasugi stood, brushing off his kimono and pulling his arms from his sleeves, revealing the katana he had at his side. He started a steady descent to the bottom of the stairs, his voice still filled with that same bitterness, "She didn't just leave."

A resounding scream echoed out below, adding to the confusion of his statement.

"What was-," More screams and explosions interrupted the tsunpo's question, and he stood quickly, running down the stairs before turning back to Takasugi, a look of horror on his face.

"Shinsuke, did you… did you bring us here knowing that the Noragami would come? Using us as bait to-,"

" _I_ was not the one who did it. _She_ did." He jerked his chin at a familiar grey, light-brown haired figure walking through the panicking crowd, heading straight for the center of the screaming and fire calmly.

"No, that's – but Yoshida-dono is—she isn't… a traitor – was she-gozaru? And wait. What about the others?!" While the second in command seemed perturbed about the sudden turn of events and about the comrades who were all scattered over the area, the leader of the Kiheitai only continued to walk down the stairs with a hand on the hilt of his weapon and with a bitter, angry smile on his face.

"She brought us to a place where scattering is the most common thing to do in a festival," another explosion and a spreading fire succeeded his sentence. "And a place where anyone can walk amongst the crowd without being known of or cared for, so that we would be free to act when the correct time came without being bothered. Whether that person was a samurai, a civilian, a noble, a policeman." Shadows popped out everywhere and spread with the flames, brandishing their weapons and going for anyone with a sword. "Just like a pack of moths that would draw to a flame when lit…"

By the time the two had reached the bottom of the stairs, all the civilians had dispersed, some calling for help and some crying at the disaster occurring in front of their eyes. The air was crawling with ashes, embers and the lick of spreading flames. Each connected stall was on fire, making a chain of burning pyres. All that had been beautiful and light was now swallowed up in walls of red, orange and yellow that crackled and brought down their prey, leaving nothing behind.

The Noragami had arrived, and were engaging in combat with the Kiheitai that had each been at their own stations and business.

An Amanto with three horns and bulging muscles, as well as three human arms attached rather ridiculously to its torso, each holding a katana ran at Takasugi, screaming. Before Bansai could draw his own sword from his shamisen, Takasugi had drawn the katana and dismembered the creature, blood splattering over his kimono and his bare chest. The Amanto went down with his mouth hanging open, but no sound coming out. He stood there, looking at nowhere but the front where Shuyo had walked. He didn't seem to be aware of another stray Amanto who lunged at him. Pulling out his sword from its place, Bansai stepped behind Takasugi and plunged his sword into its chest and yanked it out, kicking the monster backwards and into the stairs, where its neck connected with a sickening crunch.

"That creature…" He watched as the corpse started twitching, then bubbling and melting into a puddle of bones and purple slime. It wasn't normal. Was this what happened to the corpses of the Chimeraic Noragami Kamui was talking about?

"Shinsuke!" Bansai shouted, turning to look at his motionless ally, whose sword was trembling. "What are you—,"

Looking up through the burning mess with his glowering green eye, Takasugi snarled, "That woman… she scattered us on purpose so that we would close in when she'd drawn the main enemy out."

Three more Amanto, whose bodies were interwoven with human limbs came at him, and Takasugi's katana slashed recklessly through them, spraying red and green blood into the air. "That woman… is planning to give herself up to them again."

"That's – that's impossible. She would go to such a length whilst giving us an opportunity to strike at the Noragami…? But-," he stopped when he heard laughter. Laughter, coming in wild rabbles from the man who had his head tossed back and laughed in the heated evening air. As if hearing the laughter as some kind of signal, several of the previous Amanto-humans swarmed them like ants, readying for their kill.

"Shinsuke…?"

His back still shuddering with the aftershock of his laughing, Takasugi ordered, "Destroy them completely and capture one to me alive."

Slashing down another enemy, Bansai nodded. "You-," he wasn't able to finish his sentence as a flash of red zipped in front of his eyes and landed on the ground elegantly. Soon, showers of green, blue and red blood shot straight up in the air as the first wave of corpses dropped like rocks around them. The three colors of liquid dripped down the long katana, and its wielder stood, making an arc in the air to shake the blood off.

Eyeing the new arrival with disdain, Takasugi muttered, "Just like her brother, it seems that that woman left me another dog to deal with. But what a surprise. I never knew that she knew someone from the elite Mimawarigumi… much less an assassin working under that person."

Red, unblinking eyes looked up at the man, licking her fingers of the sugar crust and the leftover crust of the doughnut holes. "It is even more surprising that she knows another killer like me," she quickly stood, and by the time she stopped, sheathing her long katana, the three of them were surrounded by the second pile of limbs and melting flesh. "But then again… those people are not the ones to care whether the persons they acquaint themselves with are saints or are monsters covered with blood like you or I."

"Bansai, you have something to do. This crow is mine to deal with." At the sharp order, Bansai stalled hesitantly, staring at the blue haired assassin and then at Takasugi, before running ahead.

"You're letting him go?" Nobume asked nonchalantly, barely moving as she brought down the third wave of Noragami with a single swing of her weapon. Neither of them seemed to register the corpses piling or melting or burning around them.

Takasugi too was in the same position, but did nothing as he stood while being defended by the girl in front of him. "The order you were given from her would probably have been to stall me or stop me if I tried to bring her back. But I suppose I can say that back at you, you crow-reaper. You aren't one to stop killing until everything in front of you stops breathing, and yet you let him slip by yourself."

Nobume gazed at him with her emotionless eyes, engaging in a long stare. "If I didn't listen to the last wish… of that person, then I won't be able to repay back the debt from back then. That is all."

"And what kind of a request was that?"

She tilted her head, though her tone implied that she didn't like what she was saying, "She didn't want anyone else to die because of her. You and that man included."

He snorted, "What high-handedness. Despite her saying that there were lines that we can't cross in this world, she's trying to stop those who live by the sword from dying an inevitable death just because she doesn't want them to… even stooping to hire someone like you."

"And I suppose that you don't understand something like that either. Something like wanting to carry on someone's cross because of a request." Nobume quickly stabbed a two headed samurai who had run at her with two broadswords, separating the torso from its bottom.

"This beast I carry is the most of a cross that I bear while living in this world."

"You're mistaking your hatred for the sorrow you carry, Shoyou's disciple. Will you continue to ignore that person's last wish?" she was met with the force of two katanas against her own as she was pushed back. Nobume's red eye was bored into by a dark green one as she regained her solid footing and stopped.

Their short verbal exchange ended there, and the fight to the death began.

Nobume, who was raised and bred as an assassin had sharp skills and instincts, always went in for the kill without even letting the other put up a fight. She usually let them go by striking only the vital points, peacefully to the other world… but none of her moves were working on this person.

It wasn't because he was an older man who had experience in the war – after all, experience in killing meant nothing to either of them, who had gone through as much as the other in terms of combat – but it was her own hesitancy and her will to refuse to finish off this person. If it had been an order, she would have followed it without qualms, but this was a request that she was given. And a request… was the one thing she always had trouble with but could never refuse.

* * *

 _"_ _Young lady, would you like to learn how to read and write?"_

 _The small assassin looked up at the man from through the space in the bars. The prisoner, Yoshida Shoyou, who was a dangerous man who taught against the Bakufu and raised his students to become rogues, had been finally brought in for his treachery and under house arrest until his fate could be determined. One of the elite assassins and of the famous Naraku Three, Mukuro was the one assigned to guard this prisoner, and to kill him if he tried to escape._

 _It had been only three days since he had been brought in, and not even once did he complain, raise his voice nor try to escape from the place. Today was the first time he had asked something of the slip of an assassin._

 _"_ _An assassin doesn't need stuff like that. She only need to learn how to kill."_

 _"_ _Well, that's not very fun, is it?" she was taken aback by his reply, and turned to look at him directly. She was a bit surprised when she saw such cool, calm grey eyes looking straight at her, and smiling as if they were old friends._

 _"_ _Fun?" she echoed._

 _He nodded. "Yes, fun. While a person with a job at your age, though it is commendable that you concentrate on one thing and avoid being distracted by other things, isn't it uninteresting to not know of anything else?"_

 _She was silent at his prompting, and the next time she blinked, there were daggers embedded in the wall right next to Shoyou's head. He retained his smile as she said, "A killer need not anything besides the things the killer needs. To act out of bounds in a way insulting to the heavens is to sin."_

 _She pulled the invisible string attached to the hilt of the daggers, bringing them back from the wall and into her hands safely._

 _It was a strange thing, though. She had heard that this man was dangerous enough in his tongue and his own swordsmanship to bring along the help of the Naraku, but he had made no movement to grab her knives when she had given him a chance to do so… even though he could have, in the amount of time that she had given him._

 _"_ _To sin is to be human. And to be human, making errors are a natural thing. It is when you don't take lessons from those mistakes and shoulder that sin so that it does not repeat again, are you doing the right thing. Regardless of who is watching from the sky, young lady."_

 _Her dark red eyes stared at this odd man who smiled. She wasn't supposed to engage in a conversation with him, but her mouth was already saying something before she could stop – "Pon de rings are delicious."_

 _He looked delighted with that she was saying. "I think so, too. I've had them, once before with my students in a nearby festival in the town. A vendor was selling them, saying that they were rarities bought from the West. They were these crust covered buns filled with potatoes, fried in oil and baked in-"_

 _She interjected quietly. "Those are croquettes. Donuts are different."_

 _"_ _Oh, I see. Then those must be the layered sweet tasting rectangular pieces of dough, cooled in the air then topped with white-,"_

 _"_ _Those are just pastries." Inside, she suddenly felt disturbed by his obvious mistake and ignorance in defining her favorite food._

 _"_ _So I was wrong… it seems that I'm not knowledgeable in that area, I'm afraid. If it was Gintoki, he surely would know. That child developed a sweet tooth for such things over the years, after all."_

 _"_ _Your student…?" she was met with a nod. "Students… they must be dead by now."_

 _The grey, light-brown haired man waved cheerfully, "Oh, no, no. They're all alive. I made sure of that when I came here."_

 _"_ _What do you know of them? The Naraku make no mistakes and leave none who oppose the Heavens alive."_

 _"_ _No, I heard nothing of things like that. I feel it here," he put a hand to his heart. "That's all. Oh, and I know for sure that I'm alive right now… that is, as long as I don't step outside this place, that will be so for quite some time."_

 _She stared at this airheaded optimist, not knowing what to make of him. "So during that time… would you like to learn how to read and write, young lady? Would you let me teach you?"_

* * *

The request she'd been given this time was an impossible one – to stop this beast from approaching whilst never killing him. It was a request that went against her very identity, which was of a killer. And to ask a killer who did not protect anything to protect was ridiculous to do. After all, all they were capable of was merely cutting down the person they were ordered to cut down.

Yet… that person had shown her, that she was not just a murderer, not just a fighting machine who was expected to receive and carry out orders without a snarky comment or hesitation.

After she had met that person, she had changed – not being able to kill for the first time, then realizing that even she had a choice while she breathed under this sky – she was just as free as anyone who wished to be.

And that person's half had also told her that she was free to take up on the offer as a last request, but also to refuse. To ask an assassin of a task that was impossible to do but likewise, as impossible to refuse had been intriguing.

It had also been impossible to resist the irresistible donut holes waiting for her in a large pile, along with that note with the request, and the letter. She had taken the bait very well… perhaps, as it was expected of her.

She did not flinch as the metal of her weapon clanged with the blade of her subject, even though her body trembled under the weight and strength behind the lash. Takasugi's blows were calculated and precise, but immensely reckless and raw in their swinging – clearly showing his intent to cut her down. Many of his blows ended up hitting a burning stand and threw up burning embers and ashes into the air, alighting on their duel and covering everything.

Nobume was careful to continue blinking as the ashes swirled in the air and stuck to everything, but never to close her eyes for more than half a second, lest even a second cost her a life and an unfulfilled request. The heat from the fire was a suffocating blanket around the two of them, but neither paid any mind to it, fervent only on the opponent in front of them and each trying to draw first blood.

It had been only a few minutes, but already sweat gathered at the back of Nobume's nape, trickling slowly down her back and to the front of her yukata. The only liquid she saw on Takasugi was that of blood dripping down his face and staining his kimono.

She was able to see that beast within that pool of dark green, roaring for her to move out of the way, threatening to destroy her. Since the last time she'd seen him, this other student of that person, no longer had only that insanity and sorrow and hatred moving in the orb of his soul. There was desperation, frustration and other emotions flitting in them – making him seem perilously close to that other silver-haired samurai, who had wandered listlessly after losing everything but now had a place of his own; a nest to rest in.

It was like he was trying to fight for something he had found to protect.

Her left foot danced in accordance with his steps, which continued to push her back, and she lifted an arm to block his incoming attack which came in blurs aimed for her face, then finally took out the smaller tanto blade within the other end of her scabbard, putting the blade in her mouth as she swung the long sheathe from her side and threw it like a spear at his head, trying to push him back from going further.

Baring his teeth, Takasugi firmly caught it in midair, only using it as leverage to throw it back at Nobume whilst stabbing her left arm savagely at the same time she grabbed the blade she'd drawn from her mouth and lunged at him. Her long katana and tanto cut through the skin of his thighs, trying to bring his balance down. It was the first blood they shed from each other.

Not seeming to register the pain from her recent lunging, Takasugi rammed his katana through Nobume's arm even further… pushing to the very hilt, and coming up so close to her that the two were face to face with each other.

Nobume had her long katana and her shorter one up at in an x pattern slash against his throat, angled so that it drew lines of blood on his skin. She made no sort of emotion appear on her face as blood gushed from her wound, her arm shaking so that it was no longer able to grasp her short sword properly.

"If I had found you after sensei died, perhaps you would have also joined me in destroying the Bakufu. Your skills are fairly impressive, and they would have proved to be a good asset." He commented, a grim smile on his face… one that did not reflect in his eyes. "They're wasted out here."

"You are not the one I must cut down. That duty I hold now, and this life, belongs to that man." She swiped at Takasugi's torso as her grip slackened in her other arm, and he jumped back, leaving the katana in her left shoulder. Ignoring the severity of the pain and state of the wound in her shoulder, with a blank expression, Nobume pulled out the weapon from her arm and cast it aside, running straight at Takasugi.

The only indication of either of them being human were the blood drops and sprays that came in spurts as the two continued to fight in impossibly swift movements, almost being blurs dancing within a red and dark night. Neither one was willing to back down. But it was obvious that Nobume was being pushed back, now that the excessive fighting was depleting her of both her stamina and blood. What more was that she really was trying to stall Takasugi with only non-fatal wounds, and he used that to his advantage to first disarm, then prepare to kill her off.

The female assassin was never able to get to her objective, though, as he flung out his hand and sprayed ashes into her face just before she could get within a meter's reach of him. A simple and classic move to stall someone, and probably the oldest trick in the dictionary – but it worked. Nobume lost her sight for a few seconds and she couldn't be sure as to whether her sword reached flesh, giving Takasugi his opening to kick her face so that she fell backwards, crashing into the ground. And before she could propel her body so that she could jump away, he stomped on her wrist, breaking it. With her other arm, her hand shot out to grasp Takasugi's ankle, her nails digging into it and drawing blood in order to prevent him from doing it again.

He didn't seemed fazed at all, as he stomped on her broken wrist again, ignoring the stinging scrapes from his ankle to his calf and this time, with his own katana's sheathe, brought it slamming down into her chest. Blood sprayed from her mouth, and she realized that he punctured a lung, and now she was bleeding internally. Seeming satisfied that she was down, Takasugi stomped roughly on her arm with the broken wrist so that she would let go of her weapon.

A rather crude thing to do to an already weakened opponent, but it did what it was supposed to. Her long katana went flying from her grip and into the air, and he caught it, grinning down madly at her, "That is why you will never be able to fulfill that request, corpse-eater," but before he could finish her off, she used her legs to kick up at his chest, knocking him from her – barely, but just enough so that she could get up again.

"A killer doesn't have to be adept with her weapons to take a life. They're just useful tools. What matters is what you have with you, like your own skill to use anything against you against the opponent." She said, ignoring her broken wrist and her bleeding shoulder, staggering up. Blood drooled from her lips – the promise of an injury that would prove to kill her if she didn't get it treated soon. She no longer had any weapons of her own – just her own body… and _that_.

Looking up into the sky and finding the moon there in a certain angle, she titled her head and looked back at Takasugi, who now held her long katana. She reached into the inside of her yukata and pulled out an envelope with a sealed letter, throwing it in his direction. He barely looked at it, but lowered the katana, his eye widening.

"This was your loss. I've already fulfilled my part now." She turned and walked away, her form and shadow dissipating like mist with the heat and the darkness of the burning night.

He didn't need to kill her, so he let her go. Stepping forward past the corpses and the blood, Takasugi picked up the letter with a hand. But ignoring it, he pushed it into his sleeve and ran.

He ran past the hordes of Kiheitai samurai and fighters going against the numerous and immense Noragami with persistence, despite being badly outnumbered. Most of the flames had died down when they lost the wood that had been incinerated, and only their dying heat remained in the air.

The scenery, the soldiers, the fighting and blood… in a note of irony, Takasugi was struck by the sight which reminded of the Joi War, where he had once fought with those he now considered his enemy to try and protect what they held dear.

He had always fought with the objective to cut down those who got in the way of them getting back to reclaim his teacher…

And now, it was another parallel situation, where he was running and cutting down those who got in the way of him trying to get back what remained of his teacher in this world.

Or… was it that he was now fighting to get back again something that was newly precious to him?

Despite the blood trickling down his legs, and his wounds reopening or splitting wider and pouring forth blood, Takasugi didn't stop running until his eye caught sight of a person clothed in black and white, who was walking calmly amongst the battle going on, still heading towards the center.

He had found her.

* * *

 **Hehehehe... this one was really fun, though. Nobume's one of my favorite characters in Gintama, so writing about her was enjoyable.**

 **Please leave comments and review! (If you want the next chapter as soon as possible, that is... kekeke)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Phew... college stuff... is done with now so I'm getting straight back to writing... speaking of, I also wrote an Okikagu fic and will upload it soon, so check it out if you want... (I know I said I was going to write it after I finish this one, Xliaf27-san, but I got inspired and wrote it... TT)**

 **Because the last chapter was a little long, I made this one a bit shorter... but it's no less important as the previous one...**

 **Enjoy and please review!**

 **Disclaimers: Gintama doesn't belong to me**

* * *

Shuyo knew when he had found her. His footsteps were the only ones hurried and swift enough to run whilst cutting down the obstacles in his path. Anyone else who was as human as him was struggling both physically and psychologically with their counterparts who were just mixed monsters made of corpses and living creatures.

She knew that he was the only one able to get through this kind of living nightmare as an opponent because he had already seen something far worse and more devastating ten years ago.

She knew that it was him when she heard his rapid, unsteady breath when he caught her arm and stopped her, pulling her to look at him. His palm was slick with blood, and his sooty face was dripping with that same red.

She knew that it was undoubtedly him when she saw that same tone of fury intermingled with insanity in his eye that she had seen when she first woke on his ship.

And she knew that she had to let go in order for him to do so.

* * *

Despite his wild appearance and his hard grip, his words were calm and low. "Where do you think you're going?"

She didn't answer him, didn't waver in her gaze, and kept smiling as his grip tightened like a python around her arm. "What are you trying to do, making this happen all over again?! I found you. I finally found you, and yet you're going to leave? You're not as cruel as to stay so little a while and then just snatch away everything you gave me and disappear, are you, Shuyo? _Just like sensei did ten years ago—when I wasn't able to stop him or protect him before he died in front of my eyes, are you trying to leave me just to die?!_ Sacrifice without any kind of equal retribution in return means _nothing_."

He was shouting at her, trying to make her understand, persuade her to stay and angry at his own helplessness. He knew that he wouldn't be able to stop her when he looked into those eyes of hers, eyes that reflected the steel of her firm resolve. Whatever she was planning, and whatever she was going to do, none of his pettiness was going to change it.

But he continued to talk to her, almost pleading and half shouting. He couldn't keep the volatile nature of his emotions contained, and they spilled over, edging every sentence and poisoning the air with sharp words, "So who the hell do you think you are, trying to save us all like some stuck up messiah who thinks that you can just solve everything with your own effort, with a sacrifice you decide on your own? No one asked you to be a sacrifice, and no one asked you to be here like this, staging us up and trying to be a _helpful_ person. Why do you have to be so self-righteous like that person, thinking that what you're doing is right?! You can't save everyone by doing this – lest, anyone, and least of all me—the person who least deserves any sort of redemption-,"

He knew that he sounded childish as he rambled on in a mad frenzy, almost grappling to small straws to keep her here for a moment longer. He hated it. Hating to act like this but reduced to such. He hated that unshaken look she was giving him and that convenient silence. It meant that she wasn't going to be moved at all.

He hated this. Acting like a sniveling child throwing a tantrum to bring back his mother, or to stop a loved one from leaving, even if he had to bow his head. But he couldn't help it. And he didn't care, though he hated it. As long as she stayed for a longer moment, as long as she listened, he would continue to talk – as long as she continued to smile at him and stay there, then that was fine.

Even if he ended up hurting her and she ended up hating him by interfering in her affairs, he didn't care. As long as he could keep her here and stop her from leaving – something he could do this time because he was here. That time, he wasn't able to stop the officials and the Naraku from taking his teacher, and he wasn't able to save him despite his efforts. But he was going to make sure he could now. He wasn't going to let that happen to him again.

* * *

"—do you have to be so self-righteous like that person, thinking that what you're doing is right?! You can't-," his keen screaming, that torn beast in his eye screaming at her to listen was painful to look at and hear. His black purple hair glinted brightly in the background of the dying flames, illuminating his face, which was scrunched up with emotion, and gray ash coated his body, some smeared on his face and some fringing his kimono. She wanted to continue to look at him, to burn him into her eyes for good before she left.

She knew what he was doing. To make sure, she knew that she had ended up caring for him in the same way he was obsessed with her. Craving his existence in her once lonely world, in that calm swirl of colors and becoming unsettled when he wasn't near her… she understood his panic and hatred, directed at her. It might have been just a fragment of what she felt when she tried to kill herself centuries ago, but the core of that intent was the same.

That fear of losing someone.

He was scared, without even knowing it perhaps, of repeating the same thing that happened to him ten years ago. Of a loss of someone who was… significant. Despite having nicked away hundreds of bonds and bringing down thousands of people and throwing them away after they were of no more use, she was watching him as he struggled to prevent this second loss from happening, no matter how futile it was.

But it was the same with her. No matter how much he would scream at her, curse her and go after the shadow of her brother for leaving him behind, and no matter how much she hurt him, she would still go on for fear of losing him. In order to protect what was left from her brother, she would leave. And no matter how much he would hate her, she would want him to live and go on without turning back. She supposed this was what her brother felt when he faced his execution… and yet, everything now was different from that time.

She had to break him in the one way she knew how for him to let go.

Shuyo turned her body to fully look at him, and stepped forward, raising the sleeve of her black haori and wiped the soot from his face, like she did that time when he first came to her dripping in blood on the ship when the Noragami invaded and he defended her.

She ignored his fingers crushing her wrist as she continued to wipe the soot from her face. She continued to act as if nothing happened when the leaders of the Noragami arrived… when that man arrived. Continuing to smile, even if what she was going to do was about to crack her centuries old heart.

"What a touching scene. Catching up before you die, hm, Mr. Kuro-kemono?" Takasugi stilled under her touch, and his eye glanced up quickly, opening just a slight wider at the sight of a familiar face. Plain shock didn't cover the range of what he was feeling.

"How-,"

The red cloaked person – Yamyra, spoke, brushing Kuso aside. "Ask that woman. She knows us better than you, after all. We… have a bit of history with her… and her brother, who I understand, was your… teacher? My condolences to his death."

"If you want to say such a thing, you're ten years too late. So… you're the one who's been trying to leach at her like a parasite." Despite his previous outburst, he seemed placated enough for now to answer with only a dark stare.

"Leach? No, no, my poor child." Yamyra chuckled, his laughter waving over Shuyo's skin like crawling insects, and she fought the urge to shudder. "I cannot believe that you've been so complacent, having been wrapped over her finger like that."

She felt Takasugi's posture slowly tense up at his words, "Yoshida Shuyo, has long been with us – has always been a part of us, before you were even born. You were a fool to believe in her so easily."

Shuyo didn't dare look back at the Noragami who stared at her back. All she could do was stare into Takasugi's face as his expression stiffened, and he looked down at her, daring her to deny it.

Are you a traitor?

The question hung in the air, unspoken, but she could already know what he thought at that moment.

She didn't nod or shake or head – just kept her answer within her. All she did was smile her usual smile. But he was staring down at her, as if looking at a stranger – an empty, emotionless gaze.

She took that chance to knock him out with the hilt of her katana, hard enough into his guts so that he slumped and fell into her arms. Supporting his weight, she slowly laid him down onto the ground, bringing his head into her lap, and stayed there a moment, brushing his bangs from his face so that she could see him clearly before they took her away.

She looked at the slope of his forehead, trailed her fingers over the bandages covering his left eye, cupped his chiseled cheeks and relished the feeling of the soft skin of his lips against her own hands. Gently, slowly, as if she were touching either a lover or someone she considered her beloved child, Shuyo touched his features tensed up in a frown, smiling fondly; sadly.

She wasn't sure if he would ever forgive her for this. He would sure to be angry when he woke up, glaring at whoever and smoking his kiseru as he went off to sulk… or maybe, accidentally end up cutting someone.

She almost laughed at the thought of how well she knew him now. How easier it was to know him than herself.

"Shuyo, anytime now." The voice of the red Noragami echoed behind her, drawing her out of her reverie, reminding her of what needed to be done.

She touched her fingers to trace his sooty and bloody cheek once more before pressing her lips to his forehead.

 _I'm sorry_.

* * *

Without uttering a sound as his vision flitted in front of his eyes like a hazy picture, Takasugi rolled onto his torso and looked up at his sensei with his unseeing left eye.

Then with his right eye, he watched his sensei's mirror as she approached the five figures standing, almost waiting for her.

Why… why was it that when he found something so profoundly important, that it always slipped from his fingers?

His ribs and muscles cried out when he shifted his torso, his old wounds reopening further, and his recent ones being scraped up with the dust and ashes on the dirty ground. He could taste the bitter gall of cinders in his mouth, mixed with his blood, and the smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils.

And all he could see was that retreating back as he uselessly reached, slowly, almost crawling on all fours to get closer.

All he could do was reach out, his kimono sleeve dragging against the concrete soaking with blood and soot. He moved forward like a worm on the ground, clenching the mound of corpses in front of him to use as a solid weight and try to push himself forward.

But the burning throbbing and continual pain in his side prevented him from moving at all. His legs wouldn't move the way he wanted to, and his lower body from where she hit him was a dead hindrance.

Move…

 _Move…_

 _Move…_

 ** _Move…_**

 ** _Move!_** He was screaming at his body, at himself, willing his limbs to get up – to stand up. Nothing happened. He was paralyzed as he could only watch everything unfold before his eyes.

This was just like that time. Watching as he couldn't do anything, helpless even – and bound by something other than ropes.

"We'll see you again sometime, Mr. Kuro-Kemono. I'll be sure to pay back my last death that time.~" taking his sensei's memento with them, the Noragami disappeared with a wave of heat that rustled his bangs and brushed the ashes into the air.

That was when he snapped. When Shuyo's figure had vanished completely from his sight, and when he could no longer feel her presence in the same area, Takasugi brought his hand back as a fist full of blood and dust to his unmoving body. Blinking as the cremated remains of what used to be a lively festival got caught up in his eyelashes, and the dry taste rolling around in his tongue, Takasugi opened his mouth and roared as loud and as long as his beast let him.

A long, mournful sound full of enmity.

* * *

 **So... what'd you all think of this chapter?**

 **And... that's what leaving reviews are for~/^O^/**

 **(Bows) Until the next chapter, my dear readers...**


	15. Chapter 15

**I haven't been updating as much for this fanfic, I suppose. Sorry about that. Multi-tasking on two fanfics was harder than I thought... and I also had a lot of personal stuff going on... but, I got this one up anyway... so... please e** **njoy and leave reviews^^**

 **I didn't get any reviews for my last chapter, so I was kinda wondering where all my readers went... uwah... ToT.**

 **Disclaimers: Gintama is not mine**

* * *

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha—did you see that expression? Honestly, that was to die for. Wasn't it, Yoshida-san?" Kuso nudged the woman who sat quietly on the bloody chair provided for her, chains coiling around her ankles, wrist and neck so that she was pinned into the wall in a sitting position.

She didn't answer – or, rather, couldn't answer. She hadn't communicated in any way for half a day of their journey in the ship, which was camouflaged and hidden within the flow of the air and indistinguishable from other ship's radars.

"Kuso, you can talk all you want, but she's not going to do anything like you think." Shizuko commented, flicking her long black hair back from her shoulder and utterly absorbed in scrutinizing a human finger against an Amanto palm. "She's already-,"

"Resigned about her fate? Perhaps. But the samurai spirit that I've known to be within those who call themselves warriors in this land doesn't crumble that easily." The red figure said quietly, gliding over to stand in front of Shuyo. "And more so in the soul of one who died so pathetically ten years ago. I was surprised, you know, when I found out that Shoyou died in such a manner. An execution instead of being 'released honorably', as you Japanese say? What a low fate your brother ended up with, no?"

She looked up at him with her grey eyes, a frown marring her eyebrows and animosity emanating from her being. Even if she couldn't speak and hadn't indicated anything while she'd stayed there for hours, she had that way of relaying her emotions and state when she needed to- that was for sure.

"Oh, don't give me that, Shuyo. You already knew the consequences when your brother crossed with us centuries ago. And you know that I did you a favor by severing your tie like that with the boy. I'm just glad you made the right choice this time," he bent over slowly and put his cool mask next to her cheek, rubbing against her skin. His words slithered like snakes into her ear, "But who knew… that that boy was the key to bringing you to us?"

"He's _my_ toy, Yamyra." At Kuso's scoff, Yamyra turned into a red streak, pressing him into the wall with a bang - only one hand held against his throat.

"You forget your place, Kuso. The only reason you were brought back at the cost of his own accumulating power was because I thought you were of better use to the Master alive than dead. Only because _I_ did so. Master would have thrown you away without a second thought if there was a better substitute within the Noragami. Do not ever be fooled into thinking that you hold any influence of power here."

The others watched Yamyra, frozen by fear and awe in their places. Kuso's windpipe was being crushed as he was kept up against the now cracked, dented wall of the ship, his masked face turning up to the ceiling as he was no longer able to breathe. He clawed at Yamyra's red gloves futilely to loosen that iron-clasp from his throat.

"You're just another outsider… how dare you—order—me-," he gasped out, but Yamyra tightened his grip, calmly saying, "Ara, ara… I expected a better, more civil answer from you, Kuso. Despite what you say, I _am_ your… older _senpai_ , after all."

He finally let go, and the Noragami dropped to the ground, greedily gasping like a fish for air and splaying his fingers on the ground and trying to make sure he was finally on his feet. Kuso touched his throat and looked up at Yamyra, biting out with a hoarse voice, "I understand… Yamyra."

Seemingly satiated with the feeble obedient answer, Yamyra let out a small chuckle and turned, his red cloak rustling in pleasant waves as he walked away. Stopping at the exit of the door, Yamyra said, "I hope you enjoy this trip, Shuyo. It might be the last one you spend in your long lifetime, after all."

* * *

He wasn't able to say anything when the Kiheitai came back with their live hostage of one Noragami on to their ship.

He didn't do anything when his subordinates asked to interrogate their prisoner, but take off the heads of the guarding samurai with a dark look and walked away.

Then he just sat on the perch of the ship's window ledge and smoked his kiseru silently.

Some of them whispered amongst themselves about how he was in shock over Shuyo's kidnapping and cowered, but that wasn't how Bansai saw it when he'd met Takasugi's eye as he walked away. He'd actually frozen in fear and shock of that dark gleam in the other man's eye for a whole minute, even after he was gone.

Takasugi's green eye was always looking forward at the impending doom of the crumbling Bakufu, alit with anger and fervently instable emotions, but now, they also reflected a deep, bottomless grief. He was sullen, but not in a pouting way – he was… grieving for something he had lost, along with harboring an uncontrollable antagonistic core within him.

Takasugi had silently waved Bansai away, saying that he could deal with himself, and even tried to lop off Matako's head when she tried to help out with the mood. Bansai had barely dragged Matako out of the way of danger and stared at Takasugi's back as he walked off into the dark hall.

Whatever it was, it was eating away at him like a disease, devouring his self-control and sense of self. This was no longer the beast that he knew, but an unspeakable monster of destruction that no one could follow. Takasugi wasn't just dangerous to everyone else around him, but now, dangerous even to his own self.

Was this what Shuyo had foreseen and promised to stop if it did indeed come to pass?

"Shinsuke-sama…" Bansai looked over at the blonde girl who hung her head low and looked miserable, leaning against the wall of the lone control rooms on the upper floor of the ship. She was still in her festival yukata, but her hair was down. Blood and dark streaks decorated her face and skin instead of her previously happy glowing.

"There's no need to fret, Matako. Shinsuke just needs time for now." Bansai too, had yet to change from his bloody, torn up yukata, but there had been no time for such things when Takasugi wasn't ordering the usual for the ship.

"Bansai-senpai… what happened to Shuyo-san?"

He raised an eyebrow at her adding an honorific and at the using of Shuyo's name, but didn't mention it when he answered, "Yoshida-dono's not here. She was taken by the Noragami-gozaru."

She bit her lip and stared at him. "But… if Shuyo-san is so strong, then why did she let them take her? And why was Shinsuke-sama so badly wounded this time? What if she betray-,"

"That was not the case." Even Bansai was surprised at his own vehement denial. "Shinsuke had a run in with an assassin, and must have come into the other leaders of the Noragami to be in this state when they took Yoshida-dono away."

"But Bansai-senpai, you've always said that it was wrong to lose sight of what could be, not as to what might be. My hunches were right from the beginning – that woman is a traitor, and that's why Shinsuke-sama is so shaken, I'm sure of it!"

"What you're saying does make sense, Matako, but-,"

Matako ignored him, raging on, "They say to trick the enemy is to trick one's friends, right? That woman played us all for fools and now Shinsuke-sama's like that… I can't ever forgive her!"

She suddenly burst into tears and walked forward so that she was right behind Bansai, who was assessing the blade he had taken from his shamisen. It had been a little knocked up during the recent fight at the burning festival, and needed sharpening.

"Senpai…please hold me…" He didn't do what she asked for, but didn't move an inch when she leaned in and grasped the front of his yukata and continued to cry.

But this didn't make sense. Bansai knew that Matako had held some animosity towards Shuyo – jealousy, or the like, but he knew that she wasn't a girl to get so overworked with emotions and let that cloud her judgment. This outburst was… most unlike her.

"Matako, what are you-," he was met with her abrupt grip as she lunged at his face, her arms snaking around his neck and her mouth parted slightly.

The only thing that filled his vision next when she puckered her lips was the five headed, squirming purple-black worm crawling from the depths of her throat and reaching for him.

At her kiss, alarmed, he froze, but for a brief moment. With his free arms, he came up to whack her chin up so that her face looked the other way, and he was saved from having the strange creature coming from Matako's mouth from being passed into his own. Wiping his lips of the slimy liquid, Bansai head-butted her, loosening her grip on him, then kicked her chest so that spittle flew from her lips. Sailing into the pile of boxes in the corner, Matako groaned then stretched out in a silent position, losing consciousness.

"What in the world was that…" he muttered to himself, and he pulled his shamisen and cradled it cautiously, using it as a weapon in case she woke up again and acted… oddly.

She started to twitch, then moaned, "Bansai… senpai…?"

Wary, but unable to ignore her, he approached her, calling out her name. He was met with Matako coming back up, rubbing her head. But in a flash, he knew that it wasn't her.

Her eyes reflected only her white eyeballs, and that worm was crawling out her mouth, twitching, one of its mouths opening in a silent, drooling snarl. "Only… just a bit more… and I would have brought you with me… senpai…~" it said in a sickeningly sweet voice, that unfortunately belonged to Matako. But the words were slurred and resonated with a deeper voice that was not her own.

Before he could lay a hand on her with his metal strings and restrain her, she jumped up and ran for the door, reaching behind her back and pulling out her guns. Shooting at Bansai so that he couldn't follow her was rather smart – no one on this ship could rival her gunmanship. Bansai cursed, and opening the door, quickly looked outside, searching for any sign of her. But she was nowhere to be seen.

"This is bad-gozaru…" now that he had seen and heard, he was sure of it… somewhere on this ship, besides Matako, there were several of the Kiheitai who were invaded internally by parasitic Amanto, who undoubtedly belonged to the Noragami. But where in the world had they gotten here and when?

Sharply inhaling at his next realization, Bansai rushed to the interrogation rooms, before stopping in his tracks. If those parasites knew what they were doing by manipulating the persons to get only at the capable persons on this ship, then the most vulnerable victim they would have next was…

"Shinsuke!"

* * *

It was black. Black in the room, black outside the window. Black inside and black outside.

And black was how he felt right now.

Takasugi sat in the middle of the room, on the table where Shuyo always sat to draw and paint, his clothes disheveled, dirty and bloody. He hadn't bothered with the bandages from his old injuries or moved to dress his new wounds, and he didn't feel to it at the moment, leaving the gashes crusted with red-brown flakes and still sordid from the dust and ashes. The blood had stopped flowing a while ago, so there would be no problem with them yet.

Pain wasn't the thing his mind was on nor cared to acknowledge.

All he did was stare at his surroundings, remembering and letting the hatred wash over his mind in waves again and again.

When he remembered how Shuyo had walked away from him, leaving him behind, that old memory of when Shoyou was taken away burned raw inside. And when he wasn't able to do anything to change her mind, he felt that same helplessness crashing down on him again, scratching him till his heart bled in shame and anger. Then came that old, familiar force of hatred directed at the Noragami… at Shuyo… and at himself.

Just like ten years ago.

After his teacher had been executed in front of his eyes by none other than Gintoki, all of the Joi rebels had been arrested and either executed or had run away and hidden themselves. The men under Takasugi had been no exception, though many did manage to avoid the danger of execution.

Takasugi had been undercover for some time as well, out of sight and out of hearing of anyone, lying low in the most obvious place in Japan – in Kyoto, where the Emperor resided, going under the alias of Umenosuke Tani, and playing the distant relative of the Takasugi family. Funny thing to do, he found at the time – playing a part of a family that he once had been a part of.

But it worked. He was kept in a secluded room in a privately kept mansion that overlooked most of Kyoto near the palace during the day time, and he wandered outside during the night, disguised and dressed as if he was an important official – important enough to carry his old katana.

He watched the world go on as if nothing had happened, and as it also changed entirely when the Amanto were settled in the entirety of Japan. Samurai were only of an 'extinct kind' amongst men excepting the ones who 'served' their Lords properly within the system. There were no more places for those who called themselves samurai by the code of bushido – either you served someone and used your sword for them, or you were a rebel who was in need of hunting down.

He watched as children grew ignorant of the pain that his generation had held and carried; he watched as soldiers grew naïve of wars and of real fighting; he watched as men, women, children, regardless of who they were and what age they were, being cut down in order to be part of the constant flow of blood that the government shed on behalf of the 'greater good' of Japan.

And he harbored the hatred and thought that everything would have been different if Shoyou were there.

Even if the Amanto did arrive and the government had changed, if Shoyou had been there, the world would have changed for the better.

But in his eyes, it was deteriorating like soiled, wet paper. From the very start when the government had been subservient to the foreign species and kinds that invaded their country – from when the corrupt officials and aristocrats handed the people who served as the very ideal base of their ancient tradition over to be stairwells of corpses – the world was quickly rotting.

And that was when he thought… why not tip it – destroy the rotting roots – and start over?

And why _not_ take actions for his sensei's death?

Why not… take revenge?

At the present time, though, that objective was yet to be fulfilled.

In his right hand dangled his kiseru, which was unlit and empty. He had long smoked out his last batch, and he didn't bother to refill it.

In his left hand, was the opened, rumpled letter Nobume had left – no, the one that she was asked of to leave for Takasugi in Shuyo's place.

After Takasugi had gone off on his own in search for some solace in the form of demolition and had marched into his room to rip through what remained of Shuyo's belongings in the rampage for destruction, the envelope had fallen out of his kimono sleeve.

It was splattered with drops of blood, crumpled, but the writing inside was entirely legible. Writing that belonged to Shuyo.

 _Takasugi Shinsuke_ was written on the back in her ornate script. He didn't want to read a letter that had excuses from someone who was named a traitor, but he had opened it anyway, voracious for any trace of the woman he knew.

What he read only made him struggle even more with himself. It made him despise her even more. Not because he thought she was a traitor, or because he felt that she was the cause of his second deterioration into the familiar rage and grief he felt ten years ago when he lost his teacher.

It was because now he cared about her more than she knew, and more than he would have ever liked to admit. And she didn't know.

Then came that knock at the door.

* * *

"Commence with the emergency lockdown on the entire fleet – now!"

The subordinate looked up at the second in command with alarm, his hand hovering over the keys that controlled the basic mechanics of the entire ship. Bansai had just suddenly turned up, running straight into the control room with heavy breaths, like he'd been running the entire way here. It was very unusual for him to act in such a rush. "B-Bansai-dono? But – that will-,"

"I don't care – do it now!" Bansai ordered sharply, and after starting up at him, the samurai started tapping in several keys and buttons in accordance with the command. Alarms resounded in the ship as walls came down and barred every hall and closed off every room on the ship.

"Bansai-dono, what is going on here? Why-," immediately after the lockdown ensued, the main ship received urgent messages from its other ships, demanding to know what was going on.

"This is a lockdown situation-gozaru. There's an invasion going on in the main ship. The lockdowns on the other ships are just a precaution-gozaru, but it's necessary."

"Invasion? What are you talking about?" the other Kiheitai looked at him with confused faces. They certainly hadn't seen or heard anything, and they were in charge of the maintenance and surveillance on the ship, so it was a given that they were confounded.

"The enemy's not a visible one. It seems that it's a parasite, of sorts-gozaru. While it's in the host, it controls it so that others might not know that the host is being controlled at all, so this is why I'm ordering the isolation of all rooms and locations on this ship." At his explanation, the others seemed both disgusted and surprised, shock shadowing their faces.

"Where did the parasite come from?"

"It's hard to say, but there were no visible signs of anyone being infected when they came on board-gozaru. But Matako was infected, and it happened only soon after we came back. It means that wherever the parasite was, it happened only on the ship-gozaru… or perhaps right before we came back."

"Perhaps… from the prisoner we brought on board? What if it had been a host and it spread its eggs purposely?" one questioned, and Bansai shook his head.

"Despite anything, I don't think that was it-gozaru. I checked the prisoner's condition by opening its stomach and every limb to search for any trace of the parasite, as well as with an internal scan. It did not hold anything within its body-gozaru. It seems that there was already another host, or there is something on this ship that has been overlooked so that the parasite was able to wake and start breeding."

"But what if some get trapped with the parasite-ridden host…?"

"The isolation will prevent them from spreading out further-gozaru. First of all, continue to inspect the cameras and look for signs of the parasite. It's a purple-black worm that comes only from the mouth or any other opening in the body-gozaru. And do not move or follow any orders except from me at the moment."

"Hai!" most of them began immediately, pulling up all the footage from the inside of the ship of the halls, engine rooms and any other place with cameras in them.

"What… what about Takasugi-sama?"

"I'm going to Shinsuke's room next to inspect. If you don't hear anything from me after the first hour, then contact Kamui-dono from the Harusame -," Bansai said, turning to leave and head for his new destination.

He was interrupted when a friendly voice and a smiling face called from the screen. Speak of the devil. "Helloo~. This is the Harusame, Shinsuke, are you there?"

"Kamui-dono! What are you-,"

"Well, you see, I saw the lockdown and the alarms going down over there, so I was curious. What's going on there, hm?"

"There's been a situation-gozaru. We're currently handling a rather sticky situation with a parasite-,"

"What kind?" at the serious tone in his question, Bansai's eyebrows raised in surprise, but he answered quickly.

"It was a five-headed worm, purple-black in color-gozaru. It could imitate the host's voice well enough, and had control over its body as well, but possessed a conscious of its own."

"It certainly sounds like a worm I know~. I never deal with weak opponents, but this one was a strange one, so I remember."

"'Remember'? Do you mean that you've dealt with this creature before?"

"No, no, captain hasn't 'dealt' with it. He only fought the host and then obliterated the parasite when it came crawling out." Abuto cut in, calling out from behind Kamui.

"Ehh, but that makes it so that I did kill it, anyway, right? So, problems with that parasite lies pretty much with its infecting and its controlling people so that it's impossible to distinguish who's who, right?"

"Well, yes."

Kamui's proposition was very pragmatic, but it wasn't one Bansai expected to hear. "Then it's simple, right? Just kill them all."

Bansai wanted to face-palm himself. Here he was, thinking that it would be helpful if he sought advice from the Harusame's seventh fleet. But well, in terms of delicacy, this wasn't going to help. At all.

"Please don't look at me like that, Mr. Shamisen guy. I'm only telling you to kill the parasite, you know. It's very simple, if you want to get rid of them. It might involve a little… bit of death-life play, but that's what you should expect when dealing with a dirty worm like this one, right?"

"What do I have to do?"

"You can either kill the parasite while it still resides within the host, or draw out the parasite from the host at the possible cost of the host's life, then kill the parasite. Which one do you want to choose?"

* * *

 **This chapter was interesting to write. I like writing about the antagonists as much as I like writing about the main plot^^**

 **So, yeah. I'll update the next chapter as soon as I edit it. Stay tuned...?**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello everyone, it's been a while. I'm sorry for the really late update and am happy to say Happy 2017... except that it's already the end of February... how embarrassing... ㅠoㅠ**

 **To be honest, I had been sort of putting off publishing more chapters for this story since I was feeling a little less confident than I was when I began writing it. I wasn't sure whether the flow was okay and was feeling just a bit insecure to say in the least until I saw the last review by Rev98. One review was enough to be of an encouragement for me. So, thank you for that Rev98-san. It meant quite a lot to me. I'll keep updating, though it may be slow and at a sort of... erratic pace? I hope that you'll be able to stick till the end of this story, dear readers...**

 **Thank you and enjoy^^**

 **Disclaimers: Gintama is not mine**

* * *

 _"_ _Onii-sama, wait—Onii-sama, what about Okaa-sama and Otou-sama-," Shuyo cried out, trying to go back to where their parents were – still at the house defending to the bone with old swords to let the twins run from the intruders who had barged into their home. What remained of the servants were just puddles of blood and decimated limbs spreading everywhere in the garden and drenching the dirt._

 _"_ _We can't, Shuyo! Hurry, or else, they'll-," Shoyou stopped, and started to pull backwards, covering his sister as the shadows approached closer to them, swords raised._

 _"_ _Onii-sama… who are they…?" Shuyo asked fearfully, her eyes raised at them behind her brother's back. She clenched her small hands into his kimono, her arms holding onto the Yoshida family's ancestral katana. It was the only thing she was able to grab from the house in the panic and chaos._

 _"_ _I don't know." Was his quiet answer. Despite the situation, Shoyou was the only one who seemed calm despite his young age, though he too, was just as fearful of the strangers. Shoyou's right arm was up, trying to ward them from getting to her, but he was shaking imperceptibly._

 _"_ _Child, there's nowhere you can run to…" the first shadow spoke._

 _"…_ _except here, next to your parents." The shadows parted, showing the twins their parents, beaten and bruised on the ground, their hands cut off and blood streaming from their faces. Three shadows surrounded them, their swords stuck in their arms and legs, preventing them from moving or running._

 _"_ _Okaa-sama!" Shuyo reached out for them with a hand, but her brother stopped her, roughly grabbing her arms and pulling her behind his back, still stepping back away from them cautiously. She struggled against his tight grip, trying to go to her parents and somehow help them._

 _"_ _Shuyo… when I tell you, run, alright? Leave the sword to me and run. Run and don't look back, do you understand?" Shoyou whispered, even though his eyes were glued to the form of their parents on the ground, writhing in pain. His voice betrayed his horror, but he didn't forget what he was supposed to do._

 _"_ _But, Okaa-sama and Otou-sama are-," Shuyo whispered back furiously, frustration edging her voice. Why wasn't her brother doing anything to help their parents? Why did they have to run? Who were these strangers, and why were they here, hurting them?_

 _"_ _Shuyo, Shoyou." The strong voice of their father spoke up from the ground. There was no hint of any pain that was visible on his face and no hint of anything besides that of the warrior he was in his words despite his posture being curled in torment._

 _"_ _Live on as the samurai you two are supposed to be."_

 _Their mother continued beside him, her eyes shining bright and looking as magnificent as she always did despite being covered in wounds and blood, "Never let the corrupt ways of this world devour you, and be proud of the soul you hold within you."_

 _"_ _Otou-sama, Okaa-," Shuyo's cry never reached them as a figure in white appeared from out of nowhere, his silver weapon glinting in the red of its previous victims._

 _Two pairs of grey widened, as the blood flew and splattered their fair skin and dripped down their cheeks._

 _Those same grey eyes filled with a shock that couldn't be spelled out in words as those same shadows started to devour what remained of the corpse's torso and limbs, swilling their mouths with the red blood and tearing into skin and muscles._

 _Shoyou started to tremble with fear, anger and grief as it all happened in front of his and his twin's eyes – as their parents were quickly becoming reduced to nothing but tissues and bones on the ground. And he stood there, rock-still, unable to do anything._

 _As the heads, still attached to their owner's necks rolled to the ground, landing as wet heaps before their feet, and their bodies slumped forward, losing all life; as the blood spread into a pool that covered the ground and stained the black clothes of their attackers, something inside Shuyo snapped._

 _All she felt next was the weight of the katana in her hands and the hilt of the rough leather against the palm of her skin and blood coating her fingers, face and neck. She couldn't hear anything but the squeals akin to pigs being slaughtered, their cries echoing around in her head as she moved._

 _She couldn't feel anything else except the anger which consumed her mind, encouraging her to continue…_

 _…_ _until she felt something warm and wet on her face, and two warm hands which covered her eyes, and a voice that brought her back, telling her that it was enough._

 _She couldn't see anything but her brother's hands, but felt him shaking behind her. She couldn't see, but she could smell and feel and taste the blood around her and on her and in the air. The katana was heavy in her hands, slippery with liquid and grime, and it slipped from her hands easily when she opened her palms._

 _The wetness running down her face wasn't her brother's, but her own tears, which told her only one thing._

 _That was when, at the age of ten years, young Shuyo learned what it was like to kill someone in cold blood._

* * *

Shuyo slowly opened her eyes at the sensation of something cold running down her face repeatedly in a languid stroke.

"Those old times were nice, weren't they? You looked so peaceful while you remembered those times, Shuyo." It was that man.

She looked up into crimson red eyes tinged with maroon and mahogany, then turned away from the hand which touched her face, rousing her from her sleep. Nothing reflected within her eyes but the emptiness she had when she left Takasugi on the ground, literally crawling.

"Shizuko brought you something to eat, but you were asleep, and I didn't want to wake you quite yet. I still need you alive for when we reach Master." Yamyra stepped back and sat on a pile of corpses he'd arranged into the shape of a chair.

 _Half-dead or alive… it would matter less to me now_.

Yamyra chuckled through his mask and nodded, "True… you've abandoned the only thing important to you, so you're saying that you have no purpose left to live for?"

 _No. I did not say that. I did say that it does not matter whether I am half-dead or alive, but that is only because I know that he is alive. As long as he lives in this world, I will never fade_.

"What a deep love you two share. How long did that fucking last, hm? You humans are creatures running on emotion and physical pleasures, so I don't doubt that he's already jumped you. You were already comfortable enough to be bed-buddies the last time I visited, after all." The Noragami's words were crude and obviously stigmatized her as a low woman, but it didn't faze in the slightest bit the calm expressionless emotion within her eyes.

Shuyo's lips raised in a small, wry smile. _You're such a hopeless person. Bonds between us humans are something you may not understand even if I told you now. But there is something that I can tell you – samurai will live on, even if they become wandering corpses, if they have the will to pick up their swords for something – or just walk along the path that they've chosen. A purpose for living – whether that is a person, a thing, a home, an ideal or a lord to serve. I haven't lost my purpose for living. Just a place to return to, that's all._

"And you're not grieved to know that you're going to be the reason for their downfall? You are the only remaining piece Master needs, and when he revives, they will all die. All you've done right now was to buy them time to ponder painfully what a backstabbing traitor you were – masquerading as if you were a good teacher and being a sycophant with the face of an angel."

 _And you will end up getting hurt if you think that those people will go down so easily._

"And yet here you are. You only came because you knew best that we are not an opponent they – no, _he_ can ever hope to defeat. Yet you dare say that they're not hopeless at all? That's very contradictory, Shuyo." He continued to prick at her with virulent words, insulting her, her brother and vilifying the person she'd come to care for more than herself. He was trying to crack her conscious and overpower her will to do anything at all – by getting to her emotionally and hurting her psychologically.

But everything coming from his mouth landed in the air, burning like flames then dying out before they could catch and spread. All she did was look at him as he continued to speak. Calmly. Unfalteringly.

For far too long had she seen people do evil in the world – what was she supposed to do if she couldn't handle just a few—

That ice cold hand gripped her face as a putrid stench came from the mask as Yamyra spoke. "It's those eyes. Those eyes are what I cannot stand. Those are not the eyes of a sniveling prisoner, or that of an ordinary samurai. Did you know, that the eyes reflect what kind of soul the person holds inside."

The Noragami smelled like death – soaked in the dried blood of his victims and with the odor of rotting flesh waiving on his clothes – a smell that wrapped around her body and wrangled her. "You already hold a soul that's unbreakable – not under such conditions, and not under any conditions. It's the reason why the Tendoshu are struggling still with the petty conflicts within this country. Because there are people like you with those eyes, that we can't take the upper hand quite yet. For far too long, have those measly novices in the current Tendoshu let you vagrants run amok without proper control. Yet we, the Noragami have been able to turn that into our own hands. What was a thorn in our side is now our biggest succor – Master need only devour those souls you hold and it will only empower him. Who knew? That our largest adversary will become our biggest salvation… aren't you happy, Shuyo? You'll be able to save yet another poor soul from falling into the despair of loss. With the loss of your own, that is."

Her only answer was, _You talk too much_.

* * *

Outside the room where the woman was being held captive, one of the elite of the Noragami crossed her arms and waited, while listening carefully to the conversation going on inside. Shizuko had been kept waiting for far too long with the cooling tray of food on the ground, and it was starting to irk her tremendously.

Shizuko clenched her teeth, tapping impatiently on the ground with her foot as she glanced to Matsuiro, who was humming to a song in his head.

"Matsuiro, who is that man?" she finally broke the silence with a question that had been digging into her, but the young teenager continued to hum to himself. "Why did he say that he was Kuso's senpai? Kuso's been around in the Noragami far longer than we have, right? So why-,"

"Kuso's only been in the Noragami for a hundred years, filling in the position our previous predecessors left behind. That doesn't necessarily make him our leader, though. He's definitely not mine, though." The two were joined by Jorugumo, who had switched his death mask for an Oni mask.

"What do you mean…?"

"You're still a young Noragami, so you won't know. The Noragami – no, we – have always gone by different names whenever the leader switched or the recruits were killed and replaced. Kuso, I and Jorugumo were the only remaining ones from the last generation – about a hundred years ago. Kuso was made leader – but only in name, since there'd always been a leader to fill in the position after the previous leader was gone. But that man – was never killed or replaced. He's only disappeared from time to time, and that was when a leader stepped in that empty position. It's how the leaders have switched around till now, you know. If the previous leader dies or disappears, then the next potentially powerful one steps in and acts as such. All a matter of replacing the unneeded." This time, Matsuiro spoke up, staring at Shizuko with dark eyes. "That man… is much older than you think. And much more powerful than you feel he is. He's been living longer than we have, and known the Master far much than we do. It's why we can't lift even a finger against him. All we have to do is follow him."

"And how would you explain that woman inside? How is he speaking to her in a monolo-,"

"Yamyra can read minds, if that hasn't occurred to you yet. It's one of the many powers Master granted him."

At the reply, Shizuko cursed to herself, thinking, 'Damn it. Does that mean I'm in trouble for bad-mouthing him?'

Out loud, Shizuko murmured, "Resurrecting the dead, granting powers like reading minds, doing what seems to be impossible…"

"You were only human, so I don't blame you for not understanding."

"And you were nothing, either." She snapped back at Jorugumo, who shrugged then walked off. "An ex-Yato is nothing compared to an ex-human, Jorugumo. All you can do is expend your former abilities and characteristics, but I have changed completely. There is nothing human about me, so don't compare me to your pathetic-,"

A katana came flying at her in response and she instinctively ducked as the doors opened and Yamyra stepped out – right into the path of the flying katana.

Shizuko and Jorugumo sucked in their breaths, shocked as the weapon went through to the hilt in Yamyra's chest, but the Noragami took no notice of it – not even uttering a single sound as he looked down at it after noticing the others' stares.

Yamyra pulled out the katana from his chest and said, "I don't mind you three playing with each other, as long as you keep the others out of it. Had I not been here and the doors opened because of that weapon, it would have hit Master's sacrifice. Then you all would have lost your heads, so I am warning you to be careful. I can't have any of you dying just yet."

Shizuko shivered inwardly at the calm, cold tone Yamyra took as he turned to her, dropping the katana onto the ground. "Shizuko, Shuyo should be hungry by now. Feed her well. If she doesn't eat, force the food down her nostrils if you have to."

Jorugumo and Matsuiro stilled in their positions as Yamyra turned to go past them down the hall. "And if anyone on this ship dares to touch her otherwise… they will die."

This time, four pairs of eyes filled with both fear and hatred looked on that red back rippling down the darkness of the hall, thinking the same thing –

"Killing him after Master revives doesn't sound bad."

* * *

Bansai was running down the hall, his katana in his right hand, dread coursing through his mind in torrents.

 _"_ _You can either kill the parasite while it still resides within the host, or draw out the parasite from the host at the possible cost of the host's life, then kill the parasite. Which one do you want to choose?"_

In this situation, if Takasugi had indeed fallen prey to one of the infected… there was more than a fifty percent chance of either him or Bansai dying.

If what Kamui was suggesting was true and Takasugi was far too gone, then… well, the Kiheitai were as good as gone. Because no one had a chance of standing against Takasugi, ever.

But before doing anything, as the vice-commander of the Kiheitai and as Takasugi's right-hand would do what he had to do, if the situation arose so that he had to raise his weapon against… the person he'd come to follow foremost in his life… then he would do it with the tenacity and resolve Shuyo had taught him when he'd questioned her months ago.

"But if this really does happen, it'll be a shame-gozaru… there was one more song I'd yet to hear…" he muttered to himself as he steadily approached Takasugi's room. Surprisingly, it was already open – and he stepped inside, readying himself for the worst.

"Shinsuke!"

The musical assassin stopped in his tracks at the sight of Matako, who was lying on the ground, clutching her stomach and with a pool of blood spreading under her… then up at Takasugi, who was looking down at her with his katana in his right hand. Blood dripped from his blade, adding to the red on the ground.

Bansai noticed Matako's twin revolvers sprawled over in the corner, and fear clutched him for a moment, wondering whether he was too late, and the parasite had fully taken advantage of Takasugi's current new madness.

Takasugi glanced up at Bansai and waved his katana in an arc to flick off the blood, then sheathed it. "You're late."

He let out a sigh to himself and walked forward, but had kept his sword raised. "Shinsuke, what was the first thing you asked me when behind those prison bars nine years ago?"

"Bansai, if you're trying to check in with me to see if I'm not infected, then you're wasting your time. I've already dealt with the filth inside her. Did you really think me so dull that I wouldn't have even noticed that this girl was not her own self?"

The raised sword did not go down even the slightest inch, though Bansai did see that familiar expression in Takasugi's face, "I heard from Kamui-dono about these parasites. They can imitate a person to a certain extent, but they can't absorb the person's memories-gozaru. This isn't a situation we've ever dealt with, so answering-,"

"'Since you're going to be judged and executed by this country sooner or later, why not die for me instead, hitokiri Bansai?' was it? And then I told you that I wasn't going to die until I destroy this country." Takasugi interrupted with a glare, almost impatiently.

Only then did Bansai lower his katana and rush to the girl sprawled out on the ground without fearing that his leader would spear him through. He carefully inspected the wound in her stomach, and ripped the kimono's fabric and started to bandage the gaping wound right next to her bellybutton. Putting pressure on it, he managed to stop the flow of blood.

It was a clean cut through her insides, and just next to her head, he saw the purple pools of slime… at least, what remained of the worm he saw protruding from her mouth.

But if there was another thing that was bothering Bansai, it was… "How did you, Shinsuke…"

"The killing intent was too obvious." Was Takasugi's answer. He'd retreated into a corner and lit his pipe, inhaling and acting as if nothing had happened at all. He was acting his usual self.

Bansai also saw that he was just as dirty and unchanged as when they came back from the festival.

But his behavior right now was so drastically different from how he acted just an hour ago that it was… odd. What had happened in that span of an hour, exactly?

"I wasn't able to notice anything-gozaru…" Bansai said, picking up Matako and leaning her against the wall as he straightened up. Matako's face scrunched up into a frown as she groaned, clutching her stomach wound. "Shi-Shinsuke… sama…"

He looked down at her worriedly, frowning, "Shinsuke, how are you going to deal with this situation? The parasit-,"

"Their eggs and their nest have already been destroyed. It turns out, the last time that space pirate had come on his visit with that Noragami head… there were a few unwanted guests. Those un-hatched parasites within the Noragami corpse's head, and their offspring crawled out from their eggs in the time we were absent. There weren't very many remaining, so that means most of them have hatched and found hosts. This is one down."

By the tone in his voice, it seemed as if his leader had already gotten rid of that nest, though it was surprising as to how quickly he moved on his own. "About that, Kamui-dono briefed on… the only way to destroy them without actually touching them – these amoebic parasites – is to deprive their host of oxygen completely and make them lose their conscious. That way, the worm will come out in search of another body-gozaru. But-,"

"Or otherwise, it's up to us to stab the hell out of my Kiheitai – or, of what remains of the infected ones," Takasugi muttered to himself with the kiseru in his mouth, "To think that the Noragami have prepared such a lavish gift for me because of that woman till now… returning the same favor is going to be… interesting. For now, do what you have to and hunt the infected down."

The mad laughter echoing in the air was familiar, but the look in his leader's eye was foreign. "Shinsuke! What happened – to you and to Yoshida-dono? Was she really-,"

"A traitor?" the question earned another chuckle from him. Rummaging in his kimono sleeve, Takasugi pulled out an opened letter and threw it on the ground in front of Bansai. "She was indeed a backstabbing double-crosser... if what is in there is true."

Confounded, Bansai slowly reached for the letter and began reading.

His eyes widened behind the shades. Folding the letter back into a neat rectangle, he asked, "Shinsuke, this is in Yoshida-dono's handwriting-gozaru. But… why did she leave a death poem* with you?"

* * *

 **And there we are...**

 ***N.B: at the end, when I say "death poem", apparently it's an actual genre and something significant in Asian literature. It's written by people as a reflection of their own lives and a reflection on their imminent death. The real historical Yoshida Shoyou did leave such a poem as he awaited his own death, and though my own poem won't be like his, I just wanted to point out that cool fact ;P**


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